


Wrinkled Uniform

by Thefandomsthatwaited



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Bullying, Coming Out, F/M, Football | Soccer, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt Merlin, M/M, Oblivious Arthur, Oblivious Merlin, Protective Arthur, Sassy Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:56:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3516113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thefandomsthatwaited/pseuds/Thefandomsthatwaited
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fit Bloke yanks the books from his hands harshly, unbalancing Merlin, making him have to stop himself from face planting by bracing a hand on the floor. Giving him a disgusted look, Fit Bloke sneers, “Get up, you look ridiculous,” before briskly walking away in the opposite direction, his leg connecting with Merlin’s shoulder and knocking him over again.</p><p>“Prat,” Merlin says, collecting himself and getting up. Fit Bloke may be a prat, and an arse, but the view of his bum when he strutted away wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was a very peachy bum, probably from footie....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fit Bloke

**Author's Note:**

> I have been thinking of this story for months, so I finally decided to put the pen to paper and start writing it. Enjoy pining Merlin and Arthur. Thanks for reading loves!

He didn’t care one bit about what people thought of him…Well, scratch that, he did. He really did. In sixth-form, it matters a whole hell of a lot what others think of you. Merlin knew this well. At his old school, if you weren’t in the “It” crowd, aka bullies, then you were more or less treated like dirt. Merlin was not letting that happen at his new school, definitely not. All he wanted was to do his work and get his A-levels, no problems.

With this thought in mind, he quickly dressed in his new uniform, minus the tie. He could never get the tie right. After trying to fix his hair, which kept curling around his ears, he rushed downstairs, tie and schoolbag in tow. The smell of brekkie had been wafting up to his room for a while now, which meant his Mum was going all out for his first day at the Academy.  
“Merlin, breakfast, come on. You can’t be late for your first day,” Hunith, his Mum said. She was already flitting about the kitchen, making him a heaping plate of food. He watched with a smile on his face, as Hunith hummed under her breath, before handing him his plate. Mum quickly made herself a plate, and then they sat at the table together to eat in content silence. It wasn’t always like this though. Years ago, after Dad died, Merlin remembers his Mum always crying. Lots of the time, she wouldn’t even talk, so he entertained himself with his toy knights, wondering when Dad was coming home. He never did though.

“Thank you Mum.”

Hunith patted his cheek and smiled, “You’re welcome dear,” she said placing the plates in the sink, “Now let’s get that tie on you.” With deft fingers, she wound it around his neck, before skillfully tying the knot. He remembers her doing this for his Dad all those years ago. “What are you going to do when you move out and need to knot a tie? Merlin, you really should learn.” She tries to say it sternly, but there is a twinkle in her eye.

“Mum, I’ll just come over so you can tie it, I wouldn’t want to take that honour away from you.” She does the infamous Eyebrow, obviously learned from Uncle Gaius, and Merlin’s grin only widens, getting toothy. Mum’s lips spread to a grin too, albeit a bit sad.  
“My boy,” she holds his cheek, “All grown up.” Before she can start crying, which is bound to happen sooner rather than later, he gives her a hug, then walks over to his schoolbag and places it on his shoulders. Without a word, his Mum follows, grabbing her keys and purse on the way out the door. “You have your phone right?” He nods his head and hums, climbing into the car. The ride is only twenty minutes long, yet his mum talks the entire time. “You’ll have to take the bus home; they’ve given me more hours at work. We can still eat dinner together though. Oh, and be careful today dear, no trouble yeah?”

Pulling up to the school, he gives her a grin, “I promise. Love you Mum.” He opens the squeaky car door and gets out quickly, excited for the day. After his Mum’s returned ‘I love you’ he closes the door and slaps the top of the car, much like you would a horse, signaling for his Mum to drive away.

The Academy at Avalon is a large brick building, at least two stories high, with what looks like a basement as well. Green ivy is growing up the walls, giving a lovely contrast to the red of the brick. All around the campus are huge trees, casting lovely shadows over the ground and keeping the area cool. The Lake of Avalon, for which the school is named, sits diagonal of the main school building, a couple hundred meters away. Students dressed in their ties and navy jackets are already milling about, laughing, talking about how they spent their summers, or where. Places like Spain, Portugal, and Rome coming up often. A couple of people give him passing glances, but no one seems too interested in him as he enters through the front doors.

He finds the library first to be issued his textbooks, then makes it to his first class of the day, after wandering about for ten minutes trying to find his locker. The teacher, Miss Alice Jones, is an older woman with long plaited grey hair, dusted with a blond hue. Her clothes remind him of the earth with their colour. They’re very plain in their cut, yet she still looks professional. The woman reminds him of Gaius a bit. She smiles at him upon his entrance, but otherwise stays behind her already cluttered desk. She’s busy reading from a stack of files, probably lesson plans, but still makes sure to give every student a smile when they walk in.

Settling in a desk in the back right corner, Merlin pulls out a notebook and biro, and starts to doodle in the margins, saving the center for actual note taking. Light from the window next to him shines into the class, giving him a hopeful feeling. So far, it has been a good first day of school, though; classes have yet to begin…

“Hello,” a deep male voice says, the “o” accentuated, “I’m Gwaine, and who are you?” Merlin looks up to find a roguishly handsome student with long, dark hair wearing a cheeky smile, leaning over Merlin’s desk from the seat in from of him. Merlin gives an uneasy chuckle, and runs his hand through his unruly hair. Before he can think up a response though, another, equally handsome, dark haired boy comes to sit on Merlin’s left.

“Gwaine, leave him be. Hi, I’m Lance; sorry about him,” He says, indicating Gwaine who gives a put-upon sigh and sits up straight.  
“It’s more than okay,” he says with a smile, extending his hand for both of them to shake, “I’m Merlin, and yes, I’ve heard all the jokes.”  
“Oh you’re kind of sassy,” Gwaine says, turning to Lance, “I like him.” Before they can talk anymore though, Ms. Jones stands up to start the class, her long brown skirt swaying slowly as she walks to the front of her desk.

“Hello class, I’m Alice. Get comfortable; English shouldn’t be too difficult for you if you pay attention and do the work, and I am always here if you need any help. All I ask is for you to try, that’s it. Now let’s get started with roll call.” She goes through the list of names, each student saying a “present” and raising their hand when their name is called. When Alice calls his name, Merlin hears a chuckle from across the room. Looking over he sees a pillock sneering at him, along with a rat of a kid smiling into his hand. Ignoring them, Merlin turns back to the front, paying attention to Ms. Jones once again.

“Now, who can tell me anything about, The Reader, by Bernhard Schlink?” She asks, glancing around the room. “No one?” Tentatively Merlin raises his hand, “Yes, you? How did you know to read it, you’re a transfer, you didn’t have the reading list.”  
“Oh, I read it on my own,” he answers, and Alice smiles, obvioulsy pleased with him. “The Reader, is a Holocaust story of a shocking love affair which leads to a gruesome, horrible crime. Erm, nothing makes sense, but then it does and its horrifying, the descent the characters go through.” Merlin gets caught up explaining the novel, going on and on about it, until the pillock from before coughs under his breath,

“Twat.” The entire class chuckles, some all out laughing, excluding Lance and Gwaine, who both glare at the guy. Merlin cuts off his sentence and puts his chin down, rubbing the back of his head. The teacher turns a sharp head towards the trouble maker, stepping closer, arms crossed over her chest.

“At least Merlin has the brains to do his work, unlike some; you could learn a thing or two from him. Now Val, you’ll be writing me a three page essay about The Reader, due by Friday since you know so much, understood?” Alice says, reproachfully, before turning back to the front of the class, she gives merlin a wink, before going on to discuss the novel again in detail, a fire sparking her words. The pillock, Val, turns to Merlin, nostrils flaring. He’s seething, eyes narrowed in contempt, fingers drumming on his desk.  
So much for staying out of trouble. 

 

▪ ▪ ▪

 

“Merlin, what’s your next class mate?” Gwaine asks him once the lesson ends. Him, Lance and Gwaine all exchange schedules and mark off what they have together. He has Maths with Lance, History with Gwaine, Chemistry and Latin with neither. They do however; all have lunch together, and agree to meet up in the canteen then.

Lance walks with him to Maths, where they meet Gwen, Lance’s girlfriend. She has curly brown hair and chocolate skin; warm brown eyes light her face. She’s sweet, and takes a liking to him automatically. Maths flies by, and they soon find themselves splitting ways for their next classes. Merlin has his nose in his schedule, occasionally glancing up at room numbers, trying to find History. He has to go up a flight of stairs before he is in the right area. Looking around, he decides on taking a shot at going down the right corridor.

As he takes the turn, he trips in his haste, and ploughs right into another student, books jabbing Merlin in the gut. The bloke takes an unsteady step back, dropping his textbooks where Merlin is crashing to the floor.

“You idiot!” The bloke yells, as Merlin scrambles to pick his books up for him, since it was his fault and he can be clumsy. Sorries keep escaping his lips, but the bloke is still seething. Finally, Merlin lifts the books up towards the guy, from where he is still on his knees, and gets a good look at him. He has a footie players build, broad shoulders, probably as tall as Merlin, maybe a centimetre or two shorter. Where Merlin is trim, this bloke is built, overall very fit with his golden skin and hair, and azure eyes. 

Fit Bloke yanks the books from his hands harshly, unbalancing Merlin, making him have to stop himself from face planting by bracing a hand on the floor. Giving him a disgusted look, Fit Bloke sneers, “Get up, you look ridiculous,” before briskly walking away in the opposite direction, his leg connecting with Merlin’s shoulder and knocking him over again.

“Prat,” Merlin says, collecting himself and getting up. Fit Bloke may be a prat, and an arse, but the view of his bum when he strutted away wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was a very peachy bum, probably from footie….

 

▪ ▪ ▪

 

He did end up finding History in the end. He also found out that Fit Bloke was in his history class. That just made everything peachy, no pun intended. The person obviously didn’t like him, so why must the fates do this too him? Why couldn’t he have just had a run of the mill, normal, boring, first day of school? Because he was Merlin and that just did not happen to him.

He sat with Gwaine and ignored Fit Bloke throughout the whole period. Mr. James Aredian, the Witch Finder as Gwaine called him, was a nuisance in himself. He had an odd obsession with causing emotional trauma, which became evident within the first ten minutes of the class when he made a small, mousy girl cry. Terrible teaching skills if you ask Merlin.

Gwaine and him walk to the canteen together and queue up for food. They find Lance and Gwen at a table in the corner, along with another bloke that Merlin doesn’t recognise. On the way to the table, Val sticks his foot out and trips Merlin.

“Oh, sorry, my bag was in the way.” He says, before him and his chums chuckle and sneer at him. Merlin ignores them, continuing on the path to the table. Gwaine sits next to a blond haired tree of a man, named Percy, across from who sits Gwen and Lance, holding hands. Merlin sits between Gwaine and Lancelot at the round table, leaving half the table empty.

A dirty blond haired, pure looking boy comes to sit next to Lance. “Bors! How was summer mate?” Lance asks him, clapping a hand onto his friends shoulder.

“Oh Lance mate, it was brill. I got to play footie all holiday with Pellinore and G out at G’s dad’s country estate. That place was the dog’s bollocks, I swear-“

“Speaking of footie, you lads trying out again this year?” Gwaine asks, shoving a greasy chip into his mouth. Percival is watching Gwaine deftly, and gives a quick ‘yeah’. They all agree that of course they are, why would they miss it? “How ‘bout you Merlin? Fancy going out on the pitch with us tomorrow after school? Get your game on?” Gwaine looks so excited, but let’s be honest, a stick of a think like him out there playing footie with guys like Percy? I think not.

“Sorry Gwaine, I’m a bit too cack-handed for football. I’m more of a ‘watch from the stands’ type of man.” He responds, shrugging. “I mean, one good tackle from a bloke like Percy and I’m dead. Done. Caput.” Percy actually laughs at that, along with Gwen, while Lance and Bors grin. Gwaine pushes Merlin’s shoulder with a friendly pat and a smile shaking his head.

“Whatever suits your fancy mate.”

“Speaking of fancy, where are Morgana and Leon? Or Arthur?” Lance asks the lot of them.

“They got snagged at Vivian’s table see,” Gwen says pointing to a table where a pretty blond yuppie is practically sitting in Fit Bloke’s lap. A fierce looking, beautiful raven haired girl is sitting next to a fit strawberry-blonde, curly haired lad. Curly is making eyes at the raven haired girl like she hung the moon and stars. There’s a baby faced red haired girl, next to Fit Bloke, along with a brunette bird beside her. Val and his skeevy mates are filling the rest of the table. “Poor Arthur, having to deal with Viv and Sophia all the time; why won’t they leave him be?”

“Yeah, they may be pretty birds, but they sure are slags-“ 

“Gwaine!”

“- it’s true Gwen, you know it. Those two use ‘em and lose ‘em. They’ve been after the Princess for how long now, and they still can’t get the hint? I don’t see how Arthur puts up with it.” Gwaine throws back. Merlin is extremely confused about who they are talking about exactly, and why this “Arthur” is putting up with people he doesn’t fancy. Looking back over at Val’s table he sees Fit Bloke looking back at him with a confused look on his face, before the girl in his lap steals his attention back by sliding her fingers up Fit Blokes chest.

 

▪ ▪ ▪

 

Merlin makes it through the rest of the school day quickly, only running into Fit Bloke once more in Latin. They ignore each other again, and then Merlin is home free. On his way out of the building Merlin sees Val picking on a short, pimply lad. He has him pushed up against the wall, leering with one fist raised over the kid, who looks about ready to piss himself.

“Hey! That’s enough! Let him go Val.” Merlin suggests, voice rising with passion. Val lets the lad’s uniform go, and pushes him away. Turning slowly towards Merlin, head rising, he responds.

“What did you just say arsehole? What are you gonna do, run to the teacher? Because of you, I have to turn in an essay by Friday. I don’t do essays,” Val sneers, lip curling in disdain. He grabs the kids shoulder, which makes him wince, then adds with mock-sweetness. “My friend Gilli here was just agreeing to write it for me, weren’t you Gills?”

Gilli nods quickly, a light tremble to his frame. “Good, now go.” Val growls, pushing Gilli roughly away. Gilli gets around a corner before Val makes his move. He stalks over to Merlin next, and grabs the lapels of his jacket, no doubt creating horrid wrinkles in the material. Before Val can utter a stupid, derogatory term or threat at him, Merlin smirks, lifting an eyebrow, Gaius fashion.

“Chum, you’re wrinkling my uniform.” With that, he pries Val’s fat fingers from his clothes, then, proceeds to walk away. Val doesn’t chase, or even call after him, which is a bit unsettling, but Merlin could care less. Gilli is well, and he himself didn’t get roughened up. All’s well that ends well in his book. 

Not too bad of a first day after all, he made some mates, stopped a kid from getting beat up, even made an enemy or two. His Mum won't be happy about that, but it really couldn't be helped. People just liked picking on lanky, geeky kids like him. It’s too bad about Fit Bloke though, because he was hot. Why did Merlin always have to bollocks things up?


	2. Oh, His Name is Arthur

   It was the middle of the first week of school, and so far, Merlin hadn’t done anything _else_ to end up on anyone’s hit list . . .  yet. Sure Val had a grudge on him now, and Fit Bloke kept giving him odd looks at lunch and in class, but nothing new had happened. In fact, things were going really well, smashing in fact. He had eaten lunch with Gwaine and Lance’s friends each day, all of them always sitting in the same spots, like routine, or maybe out of habit. He already felt kind of at peace.

   Which is exactly why something just had to happen today . . . _Naturally._

  “That’s my spot git, get out,” Fit Bloke says, pushing Merlin’s shoulder roughly. He was towering over him, glaring right into Merlin’s eyes. The prat had interrupted mid-conversation; everyone around the table giving exasperated sighs, some even rolling their eyes. Gwaine just chuckled.

  “Nice of you to finally join us Princess. I was wondering when you’d finally show up.” Gwaine says, playfully pushing Fit Bloke’s shoulder, but being ignored. Merlin still hadn’t responded, or moved, which was probably what Fit Bloke was waiting for, judging by the raised eyebrows.

  “Are you deaf as well as dumb? I said _move!”_

  “There are other seats at the table my friend; I don’t see why you need this one.” Merlin responded, indicating to the other side of the table where there were indeed empty seats. “Besides, I quite like where I am, thank you.”

  “Sorry, do I know you – “

  “Arthur this is Merlin,” Gwen said, trying to placate the situation with a smile. It only brought a smirk onto Fit Blo – Arthur’s face.

   Arthur looks at her before saying, “So I _don’t_ know you, and yet you call me _friend_. No. . . I could never be friends with someone who was such an _idiot_.” Arthur hurls cruelly at Merlin, face contorted into a snarl. Merlin can’t help a shocked look from crossing onto his face, flashbacks of bullies from his old school coming to mind. No, this wasn’t good, he had to get out before something happened. He had to get out now!

   Merlin gets up quickly, shouldering his bag, nearly knocking into Arthur, who was – wow he was standing close. “And I could never be friends with such an _arse_ ,” he throws back vehemently, looking into Arthur’s stony blue eyes. He leaves his lunch, ignoring Gwen calling for him to come back, as he walks to the canteen’s exit.

   The last thing he hears before he leaves is Gwaine yelling, “What the hell Arthur!” He doesn’t stay for Arthur’s response.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

   He ardently ignores Arthur in Latin that day, which isn’t too hard because he sits on the other side of the room penning angrily into his notebook, paying attention to nothing else. Merlin would like it no other way. He listens and tries to comprehend the lesson through his angry haze. He can feel hot tears starting to well up in his eyes. What had he done wrong to Arthur, besides _accidentally_ running into him on the first day, _for which he had apologized?_ Repeatedly!

   No, he just had to accept that it wasn’t his fault; that Arthur was a great big bag of dicks with a stick up his glorious arse. He needed to ignore the wanker and move on, no big loss there, he didn’t even know the guy. If he was going to judge Merlin before even knowing him, well that was his loss, right?

   The bell rings, Ms. Blake dismisses class, and Merlin is on his _not_ so merry way out of school. He gets the books he needs for revision from his locker; then heads outside, already tugging his tie loose. He stuffs it in his bag and unbuttons the top button of his shirt, revealing the tops of his collarbones. Who cares about dress code?

   Gwaine and Lance are waiting for him on the steps, both leaning against the brick railing casually. “Merlin, hey!” Gwaine says hastily, sticking his palm flat out to stop him. Merlin stops for his friends, staying a step above them. “Princess can be an arse,” he says, getting straight to the point, no beating around the bushes.

   “Yes he can, can’t he,” Merlin agrees wholeheartedly.

   “What Gwaine means to say is that Arthur can come off as rude and arrogant, but once you get to know him he is a good bloke.” Lance explains sincerely, his brown eyes shining with concern.

   “I’m sure he can be a _great_ guy, to his friends, but seeming as I’ll never be one, and don’t care to, then it really doesn’t matter now does it? He’s lucky to have good friends like you two though, but you shouldn’t have to clean up his messes─ I’ll see you tomorrow; I have to catch the bus.” He says, starting to walk down the rest of the steps. Under the shade of the first huge tree on the path, Lance yells to him.

   “Sorry Merlin!”

   Merlin turns around pasting on a smile he didn’t feel, “It’s not your fault!” He shakes his head and waves Lance’s comment off, “It’s the royal prat’s!” Lance cracks a smile at him, while Gwaine throws his head back and laughs. Merlin hears that laugh until he reaches the gates of the campus. Somehow, it makes him feel the tiniest smidgen better.

   Taking a right, he heads to the bus stop a couple of blocks away and notices a tiny café. He stops in to buy a coffee with the change in his bag; he could use the caffeine.

   As he runs to the bus stop he gives the café his silent approval, already planning to return to the quiet spot.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

   After texting his Mum that he’s home and changing into joggers and a tee, he flops onto his bed and starts his revision. He gets through it all fairly quickly, since most teachers haven’t given too much this first week.

   He walks to the kitchen, places his IPod in the doc, starts his _Leave Me Be Playlist;_ and then sets about making dinner. If he starts now the food should be cooked by the time his mum gets home. As guitar riffs and bass pound  through the air, he chops up veggies viciously, adding them to an empty pan. He adds rice to the mix, then roots around the fridge for sauce to add to the stir-fry he’s trying to make.

   The stir-fry finishes cooking just as his Mum walks through the door, the aroma flowing through the house. He serves two plates, grabs drinks, than takes everything to the table, a small frown on his lips.

   “Oh no, what’s happened, Merlin?”

   “How could you possibly know something happened, Mum? How? Are your Mum Senses tingling?” He tries for humour, even adding a cheeky grin, but it comes out flat to his own ears.

    “I know you Merlin, and anyway the music; it’s your Angry, _Angst-y_ Playlist,” She says sitting across from him at the table “So, out with it,” she adds, forking food into her mouth, and giving a pleased hum at the taste.

    “Nothing.” He says, but his Mum gives him The Eyebrow, “I don’t know, just a pillock at school who hates me for some reason─ I didn’t do anything, I promise!”

    His Mum leaves him to fester in silence for a little while, nodding her head to his statement, or maybe the music. He scarfs down his portion, he didn’t get to eat his lunch after all.

    Was there something in him that just made people hate him? Was something just wrong with him? Was he honestly that terrible or repulsive?

   “No.” Mum responds. Oh, he may have said that aloud. “People try to hurt others that they don’t understand. You’re special Merlin, because you’re good, selfless, and more intelligent than most of those kids at your school. You are better than any of those bullies will ever be, so don’t let them change you my boy. . . Come on, let’s turn the music up louder and get some tea. It will calm you.”

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

    The next day went by like normal. Val sneered, and tried to trip or push Merlin every chance he got, which wasn’t new. Arthur ignored him for the most part, and when lunch rolled around, Merlin opted to eat out by the lake, alone. The breeze caused ripples along the water, and the leaves seemed to whisper tales about the Earth and all they had seen.

    Gwaine found him out there, halfway through his sandwich. “Hiding from the Princess, Merlin?” He asked, falling unceremoniously to the ground, legs spread wide over the grass. His hair waved in the breeze, and he looked carefree and happy, per usual.

    “Hm? No, I just didn’t feel like dealing with a snobbish prat during my lunch hour; starting anything else between us. I want this school year to go smoothly, you know, but no! It’s always pick on the new kid.” He takes a vicious bite from his sandwich.

    “Why _did_ you move here mate?” Gwaine asks, munching on an apple from his own lunch.

    “Because things were just too tough where I used to go to school. It was too hard to pretend as if insults didn’t hurt anymore, which I got _really_ good at might I add. My best mate Will used to help me with that, you would have liked him, but well… I just needed a fresh start from everything, so I worked for a scholarship to this insanely expensive school since Mum couldn’t afford it otherwise.”

    “I’m on a sports scholarship, nothing to be ashamed of. It’s what makes us special, we don’t need our parent’s money to do well, or go to a great college. We’re here because we’re us mate; wouldn’t change a thing.” Gwaine smiles at him, dark eyes shining, he turns serious and adds, “Show me any of the bastards who picked on you before and I’ll kick their arses.”

    He could tell Gwaine was serious too. In the short few days he had known him, Merlin had got a true friend out of Gwaine. “Cheers mate.” He responds, nudging him with his elbow. Gwaine smiles and shrugs, his carefree demeanour ever present.

    “I’m just here to help a lad out, but let’s get inside, looks like it’s about to rain.”

    “Gwaine, it’s England, when is it _not_ about to rain?”

    “When it’s about to snow!”, Gwaine answers hauling Merlin to his feet and running to the school building; leaving Merlin to chase behind him, both breathless from laughing.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

     A few weeks go by like that, him hanging out with Gwaine and the gang at lunch or in free periods. Sometimes he would stay after school sitting with Gwen on the bleachers to watch them practice footie, which also meant he watches Arthur get sweaty and dirty. That boy would be perfect if he wasn’t such an arse. A really perfect arse.

    “You’re staring,” Gwen says, giggling beside him on the bleacher. Gwen could not know that he was staring at Arthur the Arse, or rather _at_ his arse per say.

    “No I’m not!” Both he and the fierce raven-haired girl from lunch say at the same time. They both turn to each other in shock, but quickly burst out in laughter. He hadn’t seen her come onto the bleachers, but she starts climbing her way to them. “I’m Morgana, hello.”

    “Merlin,” he says with a sheepish smile. She has a confidence about her that flares bright; pair that with her beauty and she could knock anyone dead, make anyone do her bidding. It scares Merlin a bit, makes him feel a little flustered. He’s sure that if he wasn’t one hundred percent gay he would totally fall head over heels for her. She gives him a charming look, like she knows exactly what he  is thinking, her red lips pulling up into a smirk.

    Gwen looks at them in amusement before patting the seat beside her for Morgana to sit on. “I was wondering if you were going to come.”

    “How could I miss watching our boys?” Morgana answered,  her eyes following Leon on the field. Her smiles grows fond the longer she looks, before she tears herself away again.

    “You know, he would be yours if you let him be.” Gwen tells her honestly, “He really likes you Morgs, why won’t you give him a chance?”

    “He’s Arthur’s best friend Gwen! What would he think, or say? He doesn’t want his sister dating his best mate.” She adds sadly, looking back out at the field where Leon just scored a goal, he looks at the bleachers and waves to Morgana, who waves back.

    “Who cares what Arthur thinks or says or _wants_? Do what _you_ want and the prat can deal with it. It’s really none of his business anyway,” Merlin butts in, looking between the two of them. Morgana nods her head, looking at him. A smile grows on her face as she throws her arms around him for a quick hug, then she’s running down the bleachers to the pitch.

    “Leon!” She yells after he scores another practice goal. He turns to her and smiles, and then she’s walking steadily over to him, a determined look in her eye. From the bleachers Merlin can see Leon’s brows furrow, right  before they shoot up in surprise as Morgana pulls him by the neck into a kiss. He wraps his arms around her as the rest of the players cheer, along with Gwen and Merlin. Merlin pumps his arm in the air in success.

    “Look at you, Mr. Matchmaker! Matchmaker Merlin! Ha,” Gwen claps her hands as Merlin tries to hold in his smile, but he can’t. His grin breaks free, along with a giggle. Matchmaker Merlin has a nice ring to it. He bumps hips with hers and waves down at Leon and Morgana who are now holding hands and walking to the sidelines. Across the field, he sees Arthur smiling at the couple; maybe Morgana was wrong after all…

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

    “Let’s go out and celebrate! A few pints, a pub that doesn’t care that we’re underage, a happy Gwaine! Come on!” Gwaine says to the group, a huge smile plastered on his face. They all consent, cramming into the cars of whoever has one. Merlin ends up in Lance’s car with Percy on one side and Gwaine on the other, Gwen is in the front holding Lance’s hand. Percy and Gwaine are both sweaty and Merlin can feel the heat radiating off their bodies. He might have enjoyed it in different circumstances, but this is just disgusting.

    “Who thought it was a good idea to put me back here with two disgustingly sweaty teenagers? I’m drowning in testosterone. . . and sweat! Gwen,” he whines, “help!”

    “Oi!” Gwaine retorts and shares a wicked look with Percy, who smirks back. Merlin does not like that look one bit, and says as much. They both laugh, then set themselves about rubbing as much of their sweat onto him as they possibly can. Gwaine shakes his hair at him like a dog, then proceeds to rub it against Merlin’s face and neck while Percy rubs his sweat soaked arm the length of Merlin’s. As Merlin fake sobs, both Gwen and Lance break out into hysterics in the front seat, trying to symultaneously drive and laugh.

    “I thought you were my friends!” He yells in anguish as he gets out of the car at the pub, sweat soaked. He looks like he’s been through the wash, his white school shirt soaked through and sticking in some places. “Filthy, sweaty pillocks,” he says with a smile, turning and pointing to Gwaine he adds, “you owe me a drink.”

    Gwaine claps him on the shoulder as they walked inside, steering him to the bar. He looks to where the rest of the group is seated in a booth at the back of the pub. A bloke is ordering when they get there, so they wait patiently watching the news on the tellie. The bloke gets his drink and leaves the bar so they can order. After they get their drinks, two lagers, they start making their way back to the booth, when a very drunk older man with a beer gut ploughs into Merlin and spills whatever was in his full pint glass onto the whole front of Merlin’s shirt, whilst knocking him to the ground.

    The man just mutters gibberish about needing a new drink before walking away, not even helping Merlin up. Gwaine pulls Merlin to his feet, “You alright mate?”

    Wincing Merlin stretches out his sore back, putting his arms out over his head. Someone in the pub wolf-whistles  as his shirt rides up, so he quickly lets his arms drop. Despite a dull throb in his shoulder from where he made contact with the concrete floor, he’s fine. Merlin nods, rolling his shoulder as they make it back to the booth.

    “You’re supposed to drink it, not bathe in it ─ _Mer_ lin.” He knows that posh condescending voice─Arthur! Looking up he sees him sitting next to Morgana, Leon on her other side. Arthur sneers at him, but he’s not letting his night out be ruined by some posh pillock. No, he’ll stand his ground and enjoy his pint and friends.

    “I don’t know, I think he could win a wet shirt contest right about now, don’t you think so Gwen?” Morgana says sincerely, Gwen nods her head while he just blushes to his ears.

    “Not that scrawny thing.” Arthur counters, lips in an ugly snarl pointing at Merlin. Merlin tears both drinks from Gwaine’s hands, downs the first one quickly and holds on to the second. Gwaine is complaining but he ignores him. He’s going to need it if Arthur keeps it up. He knows he’s on the thin side, maybe the too thin side; doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt all the same, no matter how many times he’s heard it from people.

    “Arthur, stop!” Lance practically growls, “He’s our friend, you don’t have to _like_ him, but stop being rude. If you can’t, then you can leave because we all want him here.”

     Merlin’s heart soars at the words. For Lance to speak up to Arthur is huge, he never challenges anyone else, he’s too noble. They actually want him here; he is actually one of them. It could just be the alcohol in his system, but at that exact moment in time, he feels warm and happy, bursting with it.

     Arthur’s face is shell-shocked as he looks around the table, noting all the head nods of agreement. He turns angry when he looks at Merlin, “You would get rid of _me_ , for _him_? Why? He’s nothing special!” Merlin’s heart turns cold, his stomach drops. He takes a long swig of his drink.

     Lance and Gwaine are fuming, Gwen is worriedly looking around the table, while everyone else is shooting daggers in Arthur’s direction. Before anyone can say anything else though, he says, “I may not be _special_ , but at least I know how to treat people well, something you clearly never learned how to do.” He gets up and starts walking to the bar, “Insufferable prat!” he throws over his shoulder.

     He knows he’s a light weight, but he downs a few shots in succession anyway. It’s a Friday night, he has problems do deal with, and they are sitting thirty feet away. They seem to be arguing back at the booth, every once in a while one of them will send a glance his way,  to which he waves. He downs two more shots, throws cash at the barman, then stumbles back to the booth, falling into the spot next to Gwaine.

     “Merlin?” Lance asks.

     “Hmmm?”

     “How much did you drink?” Gwaine finishes.

     “ ‘Lost count, but I _feel great”_ Oh he is definitely plastered, “This shirt is sticky though, ewww.” Around the table his friends chuckle, except Arthur of course.

     Turning to Arthur he slurs, “Jus’ one question. Why d’you hate me so much? I want t’know.” He promises himself he’s not going to cry at the answer.

     “I don’t _hate_ you . . .” Arthur grumbles, “I just don’t particularly _like_ you.”

     “Could you particularly not like me in silence from now on?”

     “Whatever,” Arthur replies, while everyone else at the table laughs. Arthur does stay quieter for the rest of the night though, at least he’s not throwing insults at him anyway.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments on the last chapter, they made me smile. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! Comments about the chapter are always welcome, as are input and predictions.


	3. Don't Drink Underage Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he stumbles through the door, shielding his eyes from the early morning light outside, he walks right into a small wall of fury.  
> “Merlin!”

The next day Merlin tries to sneak back into his house after staying the night at Gwaine’s, but the effort is useless. He is impossibly hungover, God he’s such a lightweight, and reeks of alcohol. Not only from drinking it, but also from the impromptu alcohol bath from the beer-bellied bloke. Wasn’t that just a fantastic way to start the weekend, hungover and sneaking into his own home? It’s probably for the better  that he sneak though; his Mum would be furious, he hadn’t even told her he was going out, let alone staying out all night.

As he stumbles through the door, shielding his eyes from the early morning light outside, he walks right into a small wall of fury.

“Merlin!” His Mum yells causing a throbbing ache in his head. He winces, trying to hide it, but she notices anyway. “Are you hungover?!” She practically screeches, gripping his chin in a fierce, tight lock. He tries not to wince again; never again is he drinking. Ever.

“Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I was? Do you? Every day you text me when you get home from school! It’s a rule for Christ’s sake! What was I supposed to think when I didn’t get that text, then came home to find you gone with no warning?

“I was worried sick! I didn’t know if you had gone out, or been hurt, or mugged, abducted! Or…or killed! Merlin, don’t you ever make me go through that again. . . not after what happened to your father. Please.” She continues to hold his chin, staring into his eyes with her fiery blue ones. Small tears are in the corners as she rubs a small circle into his cheek with her thumb, but she continues through the admonishing.

God, he was an idiot.

She must have been worried restless, and judging by the deep dark circles under her eyes, she hadn’t any sleep. Mum never talked about his father, not after he had been killed. All she had ever told him when he asked was that it was some sort of mugging. After that, she would close off again. Sometimes it was as if his father had never existed at all, only in the faint, fuzzy memories he harboured. Even those were faulted though; a child’s memory is often false, made up, imaginative. Just pretend.

The only memories he had of his father, and they could be fake.

. . . However, his Mum must have remembered all of it, everything about his Dad, about his death. Not hearing from him after work the day he died, not finding him at home when she got off, his Dad never coming home. Her husband, her love, not coming home . . . The police at the door. Had his Mum been waiting for word from the police while he was out last night too? Waiting for word to come identify a body?

God, Merlin was a fucking arse for making his Mum relive that.

“Oh God, Mum, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean ─ I’m so . . . I was out with friends after their footie practice and, then Arthur was an arse, and well I ─ sorry Mum.” Whispering he adds, “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I know it won’t happen again because you’re grounded. No son of mine is going out to get drunk while underage, especially without telling me where he is going. Now get upstairs and have a warm shower. You look a state, and I never want to smell you like this again.”

He tries for the stairs but only gets halfway there before he’s called back. His Mum is standing with a glass of water and two white pills in the palm of her small hands. “Here,” she indicates with a scornful smirk on her lips. “I was young once too.” He takes them gratefully with a nod, downing both quickly before returning to the stairs.

“I love you Mum.” He says quietly.

“I love you too my boy.” She replies softly. Merlin knows that they’ll be okay.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

“I’m having everyone over for a film night tomorrow, do you wanna come, Merlin?” Gwen asked him excitedly, “I told everyone to choose a film to bring, then we’ll vote on which ones to watch! Lance said he’s bringing a whole bunch of snacks, and Perce and Gwaine are buying pizzas, sounds fun right?”

“Sounds fantastic Gwen, “ Merlin replies morosely, “but I’m still grounded from our little pub adventure.”

“Oh, I was hoping you could come, you’re part of the group now. Oh well, hopefully you can come to the next one?” Gwen answered, ending with a hopeful lilt and  small warm smile.

Merlin returned the smile, “Yeah, hopefully.”

Three weeks and he was still on restriction. He couldn’t go out anywhere, which meant to his coffee shop and the bookstore, which was torture enough. He couldn’t watch the tellie, added torture, and he couldn’t use his laptop except for homework. The only activity he _was_ still allowed to do was listen to his music. It was gracious he supposed.

Everyday though, walking past his café to the bus stop was hell. He could smell the coffee as he passed by, smell the aroma of the pastries and lunches. He yearned for the days when he could walk in there again and enjoy a good book and a cuppa for hours. The workers already knew him by name.

After school though, he just kept his head down until he got to the bus stop.

The problem with the bookstore was less since he already had tons of novels to read. Even with that, he could never have too many books, could he?

And no laptop!

Needless to say, Merlin was bored. Staying home every day was not his cup of tea. He liked variety, a bit of adventure; _getting out of the house_. He felt too confined, like a lion prowling his cage.

He read, did his revision, and _all_ his chores with _plenty_ of _time_ to spare. Yes, he did regret the pub night very much. The memories from his encounter with Arthur still made him furious. . .  and a bit sad, but they’d sort of come to a mutual no speaking agreement.

They avoided each other at all costs.

That didn’t mean he didn’t receive nasty looks from Arthur mind you, but no words were uttered.

Well, most of the time.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

The Witchfinder was making the class do partner work to write essays on a historical figure and how they affected society in their own time period, and still today. Not a difficult assignment at all he thought. He would obviously work with Gwaine, since he was his only friend in this class. Sure Gwaine wasn’t the best academic, or an academic at all really, but Gwaine was Gwaine. Better him than anyone else.

“. . . And before you get any hopes up! I will be choosing your partners for you!” The Witchfinder said to the groans of all his students with a grin he must have learned from the devil himself. What a creep, and oh God. What if he didn’t get Gwaine as a partner, what would he do? He’d just have to do a good job and get an “A”.

 He did have to keep his scolarship after all.

“Mr. Bryans, your with Ms. Jason. Ms. Cunninham with Ms. Spencer,” the girls squealed, “Mr. Downing and Ms. Parkins. Mr. Emrys. . .” please be with Gwaine, please be, “ Your partner is Mr. Pendragon.” Dissapointment glides over his body. Who is _that_?

A loud groan emits from across the room, so he turns his head, only to be caught into the scorching glare of Arthur. He probably would be dead, maybe maimed if looks could kill, but they can’t. Thank God. It’s normal Arthur behaviour though, the arrogant prat.

Anyway, back to partners … Pendragon? … Pendrag ─ oh shite! Realization dawns. His head snaps back towards Arthur, wide eyed. Arthur _Pendragon_! Well wasn’t this just fine and dandy… A real walk in the fecking park. They can’t even look at each other, how the _bloody_ _hell_ are they going to work on a two week project together? Face to face.

Well, Sod’s law and all that bollock’s.

The Witchfinder finishes calling out names, right as Arthur’s hand shoots into the air. “Before anyone can whine or ask, no, I will not change your partner. Deal with it. Research will be done outside of class time, while writing will be done in and out of class, so be prepared to be spending afternoons with them. Now go reseat yourselves with your partners. Get comfy, your spending a fortnight together. Friend or foe, I don’t care, get the work done.”

Merlin begrudgingly picks up his notebook and rucksack, standing up with a slouch. Gwaine gives him a clap on the back and a sorry smile, then heads to his own partner. Merlin just makes his way to the seat next to Arthur, since the prat hadn’t moved at all, and sits down heavily.

“Sit down any harder and you’ll break the chair.” Arthur says, tapping a biro on the desk, not looking at Merlin even a bit.

“Oh this scrawny thing?” Merlin replies indicating himself, mimicking Arthur’s words from the pub. Silence ensues for a few minutes. Arthur sits, shoulders rigid, glaring ahead. “Let’s just get started then, we need to figure out who we’re writing the essay about.”

Merlin waits for Arthur to respond, but again silence. “Look, we need to do this, I am not failing an assignment because you aren’t enough of an adult to work with me. Maybe you don’t care about grades, but I plan on keeping my top marks.”

Arthur huffs air out through his nose.

“How about King Henry VIII?” Merlin starts naming people off the top of his head, “Princess Diana? Shakespeare? Martin Luther King Jr.? Margaret Thatcher? Theodore Roosevelt? R. W. Emerson? Orson Wells? George Washington? Abraham Lincoln? Mother Theresa? Oh! Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?!”

Merlin stops when he realizes Arthur still hasn’t reponded. All of his suggestions were good, all of those people still had influence on the happenings of today’s world. Arthur was just being a rotten five year old and ignoring him.

Two could play at that game. . .but Merlin was trying to be a mature adult, so he didn’t sulk like he wanted to.

“Winston Churchill.” Arthur said suddenly, making Merlin jump a little. He was used to the silence coming from the other boy. Progress then.

“Churchill?”

“Do you have a problem with my suggestion?” Arthur responds heatedly.

“No, Churchill is a fine essay choice. . . Where do you want to meet to research him?”

“The _library_ , where people usually research things _Mer_ lin. Honestly, how you’re getting top marks is beyond me.”

“Yes well, how you fit through the door with an ego that inflated is _beyond me,_ ” Arthur turns to him dramatically, indignation on his features; Merlin speaks before he gets the chance. “Can we just agree to meet tomorrow in the town library at four?”

“Fine,” Arthur grumbles.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

“Mum? Can I ask you something?”

His Mum turns to him on the sofa, a questioning look on her face. Merlin can feel her eyes assessing him, a searching, wandering blue.

“What’s wrong?” She answers, taking a sip of her tea that she had made mere moments ago. She had always liked her tea this side of scalding, Merlin thinks with a small smile. “Is it that no good bully Arthur again? _It is_ , I can see it in your eyes! Don’t take his rubbish Merlin, you know better!”

“Actually Mum, I was just going to ask if I could go to the library  tomorrow afternoon. I have a partner project and my partner and I decided to do our research there.” Merlin replies, thinking how odd it is that his Mum automatically associates his problems with Arthur. Does he complain about him that much?

Well, there _is_ a lot to complain about, he supposes with a mental grin.

“Oh, of course you can go, but text me when you get there alright. . . Who’s your partner?”

Merlin sighs, maybe his Mum had been right earlier. “Arthur.” He sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, head down. What he would do to rid himself of that prat.

“So I was right earlier! Honestly Merlin, I know you too well. If he gives you any rubbish though, tell him off then call me to come pick you up. Alright my boy?” Mum said, resting her hand on Merlin’s bent knee. “I might even tell him off myself,” She jokes.

Merlin giggles, rolling his eyes at his Mum’s antics. “Whatever you say Mum.”

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update, schoolwork and theatre have been keeping me very busy. I hope you enjoyed this chapter though; I already have ideas for the next one!


	4. Kill, with kindness?

To say that Merlin was nervous to enter to the library was an understatement. Having to deal with Arthur for the foreseeable future? That is not a fate he would wish on his worst enemy. . . but then again, with an ego like that, he’s sure Arthur wouldn’t mind it. Two Arthurs, the world would end.

He had shown up early, to find a nice table to get comfortable at, and so that he wouldn’t have to find _Arthur_. Arthur would have to find _him_. It’s the small things that count he muses.

Merlin climbs the library’s stone steps until he reaches the tall wooden doors. He pulls them open swiftly and enters the cool sanctuary. The silence is what hits him first. So quiet, comfortable. A safe haven to lose yourself in; each book a portal to a completely new world. Yes, this place. This old place.

This had been his playground.

Smiling slightly he walks to the second story, where all the history text is at, and finds a table and comfortable chairs to sit in. After placing his book bag on his chair, he searches for a few books about Winston Churchill and the World War II era, in which Winston was Prime Minister.

Merlin places his earbuds in, then starts reading one book about the life of Churchill, whilst taking notes on his laptop. He was in his zone, reading, gathering information; this is what he was good at. This is what he _does_.

Which is also probably why he didn’t notice a large novel falling onto the table, until the slam it produced makes him flinch. He pulls his music out and looks up, only to see Arthur once again glaring at him. What else was new? The boys antics were getting old quickly.

“Hello.” Merlin said awkwardly. “Are you going to sit down, or are you just going to do all your work standing up?”

“ _Shut up Marvin_.” Arthur says as he takes the seat across from him. _Marvin?_ Marvin! Arthur had said his name correctly before. He knew Merlin’s name. Why? _Oh, he is trying to rile you_.

Like that would work. Pfft.

“Yeah . . . okay. _So_ here is what we’re going to do. I’m going to look for Churchill’s accomplishments and you’re going to look for his failures, or anything that wasn’t particularly good while he was in the public eye. That should be a good start for today.” Merlin says in his most business tone. It felt odd speaking like that. Business-y.

“Whoa, wait. Why do you get to call the shots?” Arthur asked indignantly, “I’m doing his accomplishments; you can do the failures or whatever. That sounds like a better plan, now get to work.”

Arthur just commanded him to do something. Commanded . . . What a prat!

Merlin decides to ignore the last comment, and opts instead to put back in his earbuds, ready to drown out Arthur. _Or he could drown in Arthur’s blue, blue eyes_ – Whoa. Stop that thought right there Merlin. He may be pretty, but he has a piss poor personality.

Merlin goes back to reading and not talking; keeping a watchful eye on Arthur to make sure that he’s actually _doing_ work. To his surprise, Arthur is engrossed in the novel and typing furiously away with notes on his own laptop. _Wow, an avid Churchill fan_. Merlin wants to chuckle, but stops himself quickly, making a sort of choking sound. Arthur looks at him oddly, but continues to work. To think that Arthur was actually interested in _history, in old stuff_ ; never would have crossed his mind.

Guess you learn something new every day, he thinks.

Hours pass by, with barely fifteen words spoken between the two of them. It’s actually quite uncomfortable Merlin thinks. He can feel the tension rolling off from Arthur in waves. What had he done to make Arthur _so tense_? So ready to attack?

Caught in a sort of trance reading the novel, Merlin starts to tap his fingers along with his music. It’s just a soft thrum on the table, keeping the beat and tempo in his head. He doesn’t even notice his humming either until Arthur throws a paper at him, hitting him square between the eyes.

“What?!” He asks incredulously.

“ _Shut. Up._ ” Arthur replies through clenched teeth, his jaw tense under the strain.

“ _If I had a pound for every time you’ve said that to me. . ._ ” Merlin mutters under his breath. He shakes his head, blowing a puff of air from his mouth as he does so. He definitely wouldn’t be rich, but he would be well on his way there.

Ignoring Arthur, he goes back to his reading. A couple of minutes in and he’s startled by a tap to the shoulder. He pulls his earbud out once again, and turns around.

“You’re Merlin, right?” The boy asks.

“Yes . . . Wait, you’re Gilli! From the first day of school?” Merlin replies, sneaking a glance back at Arthur to see what he’s doing. Arthur is pretending not to listen to their conversation it seems.

“Yeah, that’s actually why I’m here. I never said thank you for sticking up for me that day. I’m sorry about that.” Gilli explains, his eyes cast downwards in embarrassment. Merlin reaches out for his shoulder.

“Hey, I would gladly do it again. Trust me; I have had my fair share of the likes of people like Val. Sometimes all you have to do is stick up for yourself.” Merlin chuckles a bit, adding with a small smile because he has no self-preservation skills whatsoever, “And I’m always here if you need me.”

He may have been bullied in the past, hell he was being bullied now, but if he could help someone else out, than it was totally worth it. No one deserves to be harassed and put down constantly for being who they are, or because some self-righteous bastards deemed themselves worthy of being above everyone else. That is one thing Merlin could never stand for, so he would be the idiot that he _is_ and stand up for others who are being bullied.

Merlin did not like seeing other people hurting.

“Thank you.” Gilli barely whispered out, a grin tugging at his lips. Merlin only nodded his head, giving Gilli’s shoulder a light squeeze before letting go. Adjusting the strap on his shoulder, Gilli left, leaving Merlin once again alone with Arthur, who was now staring at him.

“What was that about?” Arthur asked curiously, although it did still feel like a harsh demand.

“Hmm?” Merlin replied situating himself back in the chair more comfortably. “Oh I just helped him out with a little problem he had a while ago. Nothing you need concern _yourself_ with.”

“Oh. Really? Okay.”

▪             ▪             ▪

 

“I didn’t get a ranting call; does that mean it went okay with Arthur?” His mother asks as he gets into the car. Throwing his stuff into the back and adjusting his belt before he answers, Merlin finally replies.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be actually, although he really didn’t talk much.” Merlin replies as they pull away from the curb, “He was still an irritating prat though.”

He sighs as he looks at the passing surroundings. The buildings blurring as they pass; the rain pattering against the windshield. The nights were just starting to get the tiniest bit nippy. Just a bit of a chill in the night air. Merlin likes it like this. After the rain, everything felt so fresh and clean. _So alive_.

“How about we go out tonight and grab something to eat? You’re always making dinner, it would be nice for a break wouldn’t it?” His Mum asks as she turns a corner.

“You just don’t fancy my cooking.” Merlin replies, waiting for his Mum’s reaction. He chuckles when he sees her face scrunch up in protest. Before she could reply though, he was talking once more, albeit in a more serious tone, “Can we afford that Mum?”

His mum sighs, a small grin curling the sides of her mouth. “You would ask that Merlin. Don’t you worry about expenses, we are fine darling.”

“Okay, good.”

“Good! Now let’s go to that place with the really good chicken sandwiches that _you_ like.”

“Sounds as if you fancy them as well Mum,” He adds sarcastically.

“Who do you think you got such great taste from?”

“I did always wonder. . .” Merlin replies, pretending to rub his chin in thought, one eyebrow raised. After a few seconds, they both start laughing, his Mum slapping him on the arm lightly with a grin.

▪             ▪             ▪

 

“Oh Merlin! How good to see you, but I thought we agreed on Saturday.” His Uncle Giaus says with his infamous eyebrow.

Merlin chuckles. “Uncle Giaus, it is Saturday. Now what do you need help moving?” He looks shocked, but quickly comes to his senses.

Leading Merlin into the house, Giaus brings  him to the library, where stacks and stacks of books were on the floor, waiting to be put on the shelves. “You’re good with books, I need you to help me organize these, and help me put them back on the shelves. The ladder is too high for me my boy.”

“All of them?” There were _a lot_ of books.

“Hm? Yes. With the two of us it should get done in a few hours, maybe more, I think. . .”

“Okay then Uncle Giaus, just point we where you want me to go.”

He and his uncle started at one side of the room, sifting, and sorting, categorizing, shelving. Merlin’s hands and feet were starting to get sore from going up and down the shelving ladder so many times. Through this, Merlin works with a fierce determination.

There is no way Gaius could have done all this without him. He is glad that Uncle Gaius didn’t try to do it on his own; the old man would have probably fallen from the ladder and hurt himself.

And anyway, he loves spending time with his Uncle. He is the only real fatherly figure that Merlin has ever had . . . that he remembers. Gaius has always understood him.

“Come on my boy, let’s take a break, have some tea.”

“Oh yes please Gaius.”

Merlin follows his uncle into the kitchen, hopping up onto the counter once he’s there. He watches Gaius work, weathered hands skilfully brewing the tea. Merlin silently hands him the mugs, wincing at the contact of them on his hands. Turning his palms up he frowns.

“Blisters!” He whispers loudly, scowling down at his hands.

“Maybe we should stop shelving the books on the very top so you don’t have to use the ladder anymore. I don’t want those getting any worse, they look nasty already.”

“I can finish it Uncle Gaius!” He replies defiantly.

“I’m sure you can Merlin, but I’m not going to let you.” Gaius says, handing him the hot mug of tea.

“ _Fine_ , I’ll come back and finish when the blisters go away.”

Gaius smiles at him, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Okay my boy. Now come along, let’s drink these on the sofa.” Merlin leads the way to the sofa, after jumping carefully off the counter top. There was no need for him to spill his tea in carelessness.

Silence surrounds them as they sit drinking their tea.  It was a comfortable silence, not like the kind with him and Arthur. The silence between them was suffocating in class, and at the library. Merlin had to practically pry every word out of Arthur. How are you supposed to share ideas for a decent essay if no words _are being spoken_? It is ridiculous!

“You seem quiet Merlin. What’s bothering you in that head of yours?”

Merlin turns to reply that nothing was bothering him, when he sees Gaius’ eyebrow rise. That shuts him up fairly quickly. You cannot argue with _The Eyebrow_. Merlin swears it has magical powers.

He really does not want to bother Uncle Gaius with his problems though. What would be the point of worrying the old man any further?

“Problems with kids at school again? Come on Merlin, tell me.”

“Nothing major Uncle Gaius, I’m only trying to figure someone out. This one bloke just seems to hate me, no matter what I do, and now I have to work with him in History. I don’t know what to do. I try talking with him about the assignment, but he barely responds. He ignores me half the time and it’s really starting to get on my nerves because I haven’t done anything wrong to him. What should I do?”

“You’re a good person Merlin, let him see that. Just be yourself, kill him with kindness. If he doesn’t respond well, then that’s his bad. You’ll know that you tried your best, and that is all you can do my boy.”

“Thank you Gaius. I’ll do my best.”

“That is all anyone could ever ask of you Merlin. Now how about we stop all the working and watch some Classic Who?”

Laughing at the excited expression on Gaius’ face, Merlin agrees, “I could go for some Doctor Who right now.”

“Good, then go put it on, I forget how to work that Netflix thing.”

“Okay.” Still laughing, Merlin sets everything up for the two of them.

▪             ▪             ▪

 

Coming home that evening, he is stopped in the living room by his Mum’s voice. “Merlin, come here for a second.”

He knows that tone of voice, that’s the _‘we need to talk’_ tone of voice. It worries Merlin.

“Yes Mum?”

“It’s a nice thing you did today, helping Uncle Gaius out like that. It makes me happy that you help others without having to be asked. You make me proud Merlin.” His mother says from the armchair where she sits reading a book. _Like mother like son_.

Merlin smiles at his Mother’s words, happy that she is still proud of him after his pub stunt. It feels like the last little piece is back in place, back to normal, as if he is finally fully forgiven. It makes his heart lighter.

“Thank you Mum. Really, thank you.”

With one last look Merlin walks into the kitchen to grab a cold water bottle, it might soothe the burning of his hands. “Oh and Merlin,” his mother calls from the other room, “I’ve decided your restriction is over!”

For a moment, the words don’t register. They pass unnoticed through Merlin ears, but finally they click. “What?! Really?” He calls out excitedly. No more passing his café and turning down hanging out with friends.

He hears his mother laughing in the other room. It is like a tinkling of bells, so soft and sweet. “Yes, really! Now bring me the first aid so I can treat those blisters properly!”

Peaking his head around the corner Merlin asks, “How did you know about the blisters Mum?”

Oh no, _The Eyebrow_ again, hadn’t he seen that enough today? “I am a nurse Merlin, I notice these things.” Merlin digs the first aid kit out of the cupboard, walking to his Mum with resignation. She was going to treat his blisters whether He wanted her to or not, that’s just how his Mum worked.

“Honestly, it’s not that bad, you don’t need to.”

“Honey, these blisters are bad; let me treat them so they won’t burn and hurt so much, and please Merlin; don’t let them pop on the furniture.” His Mum cleans and puts a cooling salve on his palms, before putting plasters on the blisters themselves. He winces at that bit.

After she’s done, she looks at her handiwork. Finding it satisfactory, she pats his arm, and kisses his forehead before sitting back in her chair with her book once more. “The booboos are all better!” She says with a laugh. Merlin can’t stop himself from blushing a bit.

“Thanks. . . well I’m going to go shower and have an early night, I’m exhausted. Sweet dreams Mum.”

“You too honey.”

▪             ▪             ▪

 

Walking back from the queue for lunch with Gwaine was always a treat. Along the way, he always made stories up about the goings on at each table, creating fake conversations between whoever was sitting there. Sometimes he made Merlin join in. It was brilliant, and always a blast. Today was no different either.

Once they finally reached the table, both of them were red in the face, bending over in laughter. Gwaine had his arm slung around Merlin’s shoulders to stabilize himself against the barrage of laughs.

“You’re too much Gwaine.”

“That’s what people often tell me.” Gwaine replies faux-cockily.

“Oh hey Merlin! How was your weekend?” Gwen pipes up sweetly.

“It was pretty okay actually Gwen. How was – “

“Our lad is a free man now!” Gwaine interrupts, fists pumping into the air. “Watch out ladies and gents, this blue eyed beauty can actually go out once again!”

Merlin sits and hides his face in his hands, cheeks burning. He can’t believe Gwaine just said that, just called him _that_. Yeah right. _Blue eyed beauty_ his arse. Merlin hears a squeal from his left.

“You’re off restriction?!” Morgana’s voice asks him. Face still firmly in hands; Merlin nods his head. After a month, he was finally free to do as he wishes. He wouldn’t let his Mum down again. “Great! Come over to mine on Friday, movie night is there this week. And there is no way we are letting you _not_ go. We will drag you if we have to, right people?”

“Damn right! Right! Of course! Absolutely,” are all said at the same time from various voices around the table. Looking around, Merlin smiles at his friends. Spending time with them always makes him feel better, and he had missed spending time with them.

 Arthur is the only one not smiling at the table. The blond chooses to instead scowl and push food around on his tray.

  _Remember to kill him with kindness_ he hears Uncle Gaius’ voice tell him. Yeah, Merlin plans to do that, starting today. They have Latin together after this, so he could start then, if he gets the chance. He’ll even be extra nice at the library after school. See where it goes from there.

He did not get the chance to be nice in Latin, since they had a test that took the entire class period to finish. They had to stay silent the entire time, so he really couldn’t say anything to Arthur. Maybe that is a blessing in disguise, Merlin ponders. What would he have even said? Would Arthur have responded? _How would Arthur have responded_?

The prat probably would have been even worse, more insufferable.

Merlin stuffs all the books he needs for revision into his backpack before heading slowly to the doors of the school. When he is just about to open the front doors to leave, he hears some scuffling and loud, muffled voices coming from his left. His curiosity overtakes him, and he follows the noises to the boys’ latrines.

Merlin slowly opens to the door, wincing when it squeaks on the hinges. He walks in fully, only to see Gilli and Val in the corner. Gilli is sporting a black eye and busted lip, and looks quite scared, but he has a spark of defiance in his eyes that Merlin likes. At least he is finally standing up for himself, he thinks. Still, the odds for Gilli were terrible. The boy was at least a head shorter and five stone lighter than Val.

Merlin wouldn’t stand for that. He couldn’t, not when he could do something about it. Try to stop it.

“Val, pick on someone your own size!” Merlin calls out, making the larger boy turn slowly around with a manic smile, fist still raised. He laughs when he lays eyes on Merlin.

“Well, _well_ , well, if it isn’t Merlin. The boy who never learns to _mind his own damn business_!” Val growls at him, venom in every word. It sends a chill down Merlin’s spine. “I’ll listen to your suggestion, _just this once_. I will pick on someone my _own_ size.”

Val backs out of the corner, and starts heading to the door, as if to leave. Merlin sighs, letting the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding out. Val is leaving. . .

. . . Except that he isn’t. Val turns the lock on the door, before turning to Merlin with a sadistic grin. Val’s eyes roam up and down Merlin; eyes narrowing, he sizes Merlin up. “ _You!_ ”

Val stalks towards him, fists raised. Merlin slowly backs up, only to hit the wall behind him. Well, this was not going to be good.

Val pulls his arm back, ready to strike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit longer, so I hop you enjoyed it. I also kind of left you on a cliffhanger, which I hope you like. I can't wait to post again! Val is such a jerk! And Arthur needs to get over himself and whatever grudge he has against Merlin. Maybe I'll add some Arthur perspective next chapter? See what's going on in that mind of his...


	5. Bloody Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur didn’t know why being around Merlin bothered him so much. Everything the other boy said just made him feel odd, out of sorts, and he didn’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! I know that this is a terribly late update and I am sorry. You don't know how sorry I am, truly. This summer has been hectic though, My dad had a heart attack, I started an internship, had rehearsals and performances for four different shows and musicals, and quite a few other things. It's made for pretty exhausting days, so when I do get home, I crash. Again I am so sorry that this is late, but I wanted the chappy to be good for you lot, so I hope you enjoy!

Arthur didn’t know why being around Merlin bothered him so much. Everything the other boy said just made him feel odd, out of sorts, and he _didn’t like it_. How could such a nerdy, sort of scrawny, outspoken, yet quiet bloke get under his skin?

It just didn’t make sense.

It really bothered him, unimaginally bothered him.

Sure, Arthur was sort of a massive prat to the other boy, but he couldn’t help it! It was his natural reaction to him for some reason. Arthur didn’t know how to stop, or even if he wanted to. Who cares about Merlin – except all of his other friends, dammit.

Arthur just didn’t understand it, all of them loving Merlin so quickly. What did Merlin actually bring to the table? Sure, he was ‘smart’ and some might even say, ‘funny’, if you liked his sense of humour, which Arthur didn’t. Obviously. And okay, maybe he was decent looking in an odd, lanky, big eared sort of way, but really, he was nothing much, right?

Yet, through all of this, his mates had taken to Merlin like candy. The shy, awkward boy had somehow become chums with some of the most popular, and influential students in the entire academy, without even trying. How  _the hell_  did that happen?

Merlin made his blood boil without even trying to. The other boy was like a ball of light, flitting around always helping other people, and smiling, except of course when he was around Arthur. He pouted when that happened.

Their group of friends always coddled Merlin, pinching his cheeks and making sure that he ate enough, defending him when he needed defending. Why didn’t they do that for Arthur? Well, he supposes he doesn’t need it, because he  _is_  quite fit, and is quite the rough-tough type, and definitely doesn’t want to be coddled. Or need to be, for that matter.

Yeah, that’s why.

Merlin was just like a small, cute, little woodland animal, maybe a bunny, so he needed all the attention and care he got, unlike Arthur, who was definitely more like an awesome lion that could take care of himself. Lions were obviously cooler, they had pride, and they were royalty, being the mighty king of the jungle and all, while bunnies just hopped around all day with their big ears, eating grass or procreating, while being fluffy and cute.

And why the hell was he thinking of Merlin as a cute, large-eared, blue-eyed, procreating bunny when he should be typing up the essay he and Merlin were working on?

Speaking of Merlin . . . where was the idiot? Arthur had been waiting at the library for over twenty minutes already, and Merlin had yet to show his stupid face.

Was the other boy going to be a no-show?

 No . . . Merlin always came to the library to work, he was always early too. Maybe he had fallen ill? He had looked fine in class though, not that Arthur had been paying attention to him or anything. Something must have come up for him to be a little late.

The idiot better hurry up though because he was wasting valuable time that they could be using to work on the essay that was due in exactly _one-weeks’ time_.

The slacker.

_Oh well_ , he thought, getting back into writing the essay,  _he’ll show up when he shows up._

Ten minutes later a Styrofoam coffee cup is pushed into his line of sight, along with a couple of packets of sugar. “Sorry I’m late,” A soft, strained, mildly croaky voice supplies, “I got caught up with . . . something on the way here. Oh, and I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I brought the sugar along just to be safe. Take it as an apology I suppose, you don’t have to drink it though if you don’t want to, obviously, I just thought that since it’s getting a bit nippy outside coffee would be nice, you know? And I’m rambling, sorry.”

Arthur looks pointedly at the coffee with a quirked brow. Quickly he pops the lid and pours two packets of sugar into it, mixing the blend with a stirrer that came in the cup. He keeps his head down in confusion at the fact that Merlin was being so nice. He was a prat to the other boy, and yet Merlin was still being nice to him.

Arthur again, didn’t understand Merlin.

“You do know that you’re not supposed to bring food or drinks into the library, right?” Arthur asks, gaze moving back to his screen indifferently. He hears Merlin sigh, before clearing his throat.

“Yes, well, Marge, the librarian, always lets me get away with it. She knows that I respect this place too much to make a mess.” Merlin says absently, Arthur can hear him riffling through his rucksack and placing objects on the table.  _“Ow.”_ Arthur hears Merlin whisper, voice strained.

Arthur finally glances up for the first time, “Oh, well thank you I guess – what in God’s name happened to your face Merlin?” Arthur questions, voice raising an octave by the end. Before him sits Merlin; with a black eye, busted upper _and_ lower lip, and a cut up cheekbone. His face is swollen and puffy, cuts still bleeding, turning a bruised purple around the edges.

“Nothing,” Merlin replies defensively. Arthur only stares accusingly at him. After a few beats of Arthur’s quizzical silence, Merlin, looking sheepish replies, “Oh, you know clumsy me, I fell on the cement?”

Arthur doesn’t buy it for a second of course. There is no way falling down can give you a swollen shut, horrid black eye along with cuts and bruises all over your face. It is impossible.

“You’re obviously lying,” Arthur voices, making a rash decision he stands slowly with his coffee in hand; “Come on, follow me.” Deftly he packs his supplies back into his bag, Merlin reluctantly doing the same across the table, albeit a little confused.

Arthur doesn’t know why, because he doesn’t like him, but he wants to help Merlin. It’s the right thing to do, he supposes.

“Arthur? Where are we going?” Merlin asks nervously as they descend the library steps outside. “What about the essay? And why should I go with you, _you’ll_ probably just take a shot at me now too.”

“We are going to work on the essay _Merlin_ , but we’re just going to do it at my house. _And_ it looks like someone already beat me to beating you up, which takes all the fun out of it, so no need to worry."

“Why?” Merlin questions him awkwardly.

"Why would I hurt you now? You're obviously in pain, there's no point in it. Or are you asking _why_  someone beat you up? In that case, probably your sarcastic comments, or maybe because you talk too much, or you're annoying. I don’t know. Pick one."

"Arthur, I meant why are we going to your house, you prat."

“Because, idiot, that black eye needs ice.”

“And what, so you’re going to help me now? Is that it?” Merlin questions defensively.

“I guess so . . .” Arthur replies with a shrug, awkwardly he adds, “and thanks for the coffee, it’s quite good actually.” He sips the coffee again opening his car door and sliding in, Merlin hesitates on the other side before sliding in as well. He winces when he sits back, and Arthur notices that his knuckles are cut up and bloodied as well.

At least Merlin fought back it seems.

“The coffee is from my favourite café actually. ‘m glad you enjoy it.” Merlin replies, and it looks like he blushes, but Arthur can’t tell over the bruises on Merlin’s face.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

Arthur quickly ushers Merlin into his house, while Merlin looks around in awe. They pass through the huge foyer, where they leave their bags, and into an adjacent hallway. Arthur can feel Merlin drinking the sight in, and really, his home is a sight. Not to brag or anything, of course, but yes, it’s spectacular.

His father is one of the most influential businessmen in England, so of course his house would be something of grandeur. Everything was antique and pristine, passed down from century to century, and cleaned or polished to perfection by the staff, even though Uther was rarely home. He had too much “business” to attend to elsewhere, or so he always told Arthur and Morgana.

Arthur liked it like that though, it was freeing without his father here to impose his ideas on him, or pressure him to think about business affairs he wanted no part in eventually. Or even what paths to take to become as great a business man as Uther. It wasn’t really his thing though. Sometimes, Arthur felt, it all got to be a bit much, too overwhelming.

His father expected too much of him, and was never pleased with Arthur's successes.

Walking into the large bathroom, Arthur stops and turns around. “Hop up,” He says, patting the flat, marble sink top. Merlin looks at him in confusion, eyes searching Arthur’s own. Merlin steps back a smidgen unknowingly.

“Why?” Merlin drawls out curiously, if a bit defensively, brows furrowing.

“Just do it _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin complies hesitantly, and carefully hops onto the countertop, wincing as his body lands and he sits delicately. He studies Arthur as he riffles around in the cupboards, looking for the first-aid kit. “Aha!” He yells as he pulls out the case, showing it to Merlin, who looks quizzically back at him.

Deftly Arthur pulls out disinfectant wipes and some plasters for Merlin’s cuts, laying them on the counter besides Merlin’s thighs. “Arthur . . .  what are you – ow!” Merlin yells as Arthur puts the alcohol wipe that cleans his cuts up to his face, holding his chin gently in place. Merlin winces away when Arthur moves to another cut under his black eye, sucking in a sharp, shaky breathe.

“Just hold still will you!” Arthur yells back. Merlin stills, frozen in place, and allows him to work on his face, his un-swollen eye following his every move. Merlin’s knuckles are clenched so tightly against the pain that they have turned white where they rest on top of Merlin’s thighs. Doing this, of course, tears open the scabs that were on top of his knuckles.

Once Arthur has cleaned all the gashes and put plasters on them, he moves his attention to Merlin’s hands. Merlin pulls them away at first, but at Arthur's insistence he gives in. Softly he holds them in his own, cleaning the bloodied knuckles gently.  He sees other bandages covering what appear to be un-popped blisters. That's odd he thinks.

He wraps Merlin's knuckles tightly in gauze before looking for any more bloodied areas to patch up. Finding none, besides Merlin’s bloodied school shirt, Arthur finds himself satisfied.

After putting away the first-aid kit, he washes his hands, and then exits the bathroom, making sure Merlin follows close behind. He leads them to his own room on the second floor, where he riffles around in his dresser drawers for a clean shirt. He pulls out a blue, long sleeve t-shirt, and passes it to Merlin, who still looks confused and a little worried.

“Why are you doing this?” Merlin asks him defensively. “You barely speak to me, can’t stand me really, and yet you’re helping me? Why? What are you aiming at? Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“Because, it’s the right thing to do.” Arthur replies honestly, “Now hurry up and change out of that bloody shirt so we can get to work. I’ll have Darlene wash it before you leave.”

“That’s not necessary”, Merlin replies turning his back to him selfconsciously, unbuttoning his school uniform shirt. Arthur catches a glimpse of a large, livid, purple bruise on Merlin’s side, before Merlin swiftly pulls the t-shirt over his head, wincing when his arms come down. The shirt is too big for Merlin, hanging off his thin frame a bit. “I can wash it at home, you've done enough already."

Arthur takes the school uniform anyway, easily prying it from Merlin’s grasp.

Arthur quickly changes into his own red t-shirt before he’s leading them to the kitchen. He has Merlin wait there while he goes in search of Darlene, the maid his father hired years ago.

“Darlene! Hey, can you wash this right now, please? Thank you.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll get on it straight away sir.”

With that done, Arthur runs back to the kitchen and opens the freezer, pulling out a few ice packs from its depths. He uses them quite frequently himself during footie season. He also pulls a couple of water bottles out for him and Merlin to drink during their essay work.

Arthur feels Merlin’s eyes following him around, but studiously ignores them. Why Merlin is looking at him, he doesn’t know.

“Ok, follow me. We’re going to work in the living room.” He says. On the way there, he grabs their schoolbags. Merlin follows him quietly, which rather disturbs Arthur, because the other boy is usually quite talkative, always mouthy and rambling about something. Then again, in Arthur’s presence he is silent since Arthur never actually responds to him anyway.

Man, Arthur  _can_  be a jerk sometimes, he thinks. He can't believe that he actually agrees with Merlin on something.

“Here, take these.” He says, handing two painkillers and a water bottle to Merlin when they sit on the sofa. After Merlin swallows them, he hands him an ice pack for his eye and another for his side.

"What's this one for?" Merlin asks, holding up the ice pack not already against his eye.

"It's for the massive bruise on your side." Arthur replies matter of fact, pulling out his laptop from his rucksack. He opens the essay document while Merlin props the ice pack against his side, letting a puff of air out in relief at the contact.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

 Together they work on the essay for over two hours, Merlin reading out notes to put into the essay, while holding an ice pack to his swollen face, while Arthur taps away on his laptop. A couple of times the cuts on his lips split open, and Arthur has to run to get Merlin paper towels to stop the bleeding, but they get the work done. The atmosphere between them isn't uncomfortable for once. A little tight, yes, but not uncomfortable.

"So, are you going to tell me what  _actually_  happened to your face?" Arthur asks once they finish the rough draft of the essay.

Merlin snorts in amusement. “No.”

As petulantly as he can muster, Arthur speaks again. “ _Mer-lin!_ ”

"Fine! I decided to help a friend out, that's all." Merlin replies, leaning back onto the sofa sleepily, eyes closed.

"Last time I checked friends don't beat their friends."

Merlin rolls his eye at Arthur, looking slightly amused, but mostly aggravated. "I helped my friend  _out_  of being beaten to a pulp, obviously."

"Oh, and you decided to take their place in the face smashing department?" Arthur snorts, looking at Merlin's affronted expression.

"Oh yes, I planned it out and _everything Arthur._ "

They both chuckle, in surprised amusement.

"So, you going to tell me who had the honor of turning your face into that lovely figure?"

Arthur didn't know why finding out was so important to him, but he felt it in his bones that he needed to know. If anything, to tell Lance and Gwaine, who would definitely do something about whoever attacked Merlin. Maybe protect Merlin better; maybe beat the living hell out of the other person. Who knows, but Arthur wants to find out.

Who would fight  _Merlin?_ He's like the least aggresive person on Earth.

"Why would I do that Arthur? Seriously, it's none of _your_ concern." Merlin says, and Arthur realizes, it isn't his concern, yet he's worrying a bit about the situation. Well, it is something to be worried about, he supposes.

Any normal, rational human being would be worried about a person _being smacked around_. It's only decent. With a slight pout Merlin adds, "I _can_ handle myself."

"Oh yes, obviously you can." Arthur mutters under his breath.

"Yes, well . . . I should get going, it's getting kind of late . . . shite, my Mum was my ride home from the library, and she doesn't know that I'm here. She's gonna’ kill me when I actually get home, or perhaps have a heart attack when she sees my face. Who knows, but either way, I'm a dead man for not already telling her that I came here."

Merlin starts packing up all his notebooks and research, carefully placing them into his rucksack next to him. Arthur watches the other boy, who winces when he turns towards his rucksack, placing a few pens in its depths. He noticed that Merlin has a space for everything; he was meticulous, in his own sort-of messy kind of way. It was odd.

Merlin was odd.

"I can give you a ride home Merlin. Phone your Mum to tell her while I go get your shirt from Darlene." Arthur commands lightly, getting up from the sofa and walking out of the room. He doesn't give Merlin a chance to reply or deny the offer, already firm in his plan.

Arthur has, sort of, always been an arse to Merlin, he knows that _now_ , so it's the least he could do, giving him a ride, as an apology maybe? The other boy already offered the apology coffee, so this could be his chance to apologize. He's not sure, but it's a good deed none the less. His Mum always said to do at least one good deed a day, but today he was just piling them up it seems.

Obviously, it could never happen again though. After today, things would go back to normal between him and Merlin, which meant he would go back to mocking Merlin, and Merlin would continue to unknowingly annoy the _shite_ out of him.

Oh, but Morgana and all of his friends were so upset with him always being mean to Merlin. He honestly thought Percy was going to pound him the other day for saying something extremely harsh about Merlin. It didn’t happen, since Percy was more of a gentle giant, but it very well could have.

 The beating bit was probably more up Gwaine’s alley, and he definitely did not want to fight Gwaine, who had taken Mixed Martial Arts classes for a few years now. He saw how the boy fought, and he didn’t want any part in it.

Maybe it might be time for him to ease up on Merlin, just so a friend defending Merlin doesn’t pound him in the face. Arthur’s face is too pretty for that.

Arthur comes back with the shirt at the same time that Morgana struts into the room.

“Merlin! What – Arthur what did you do to him!?” She all but screaches.

Merlin drops both ice packs to put two placating hands into the air, aimed towards Morgana, who glares furiously at Arthur, who is standing stunned in his place. Merlin’s shirt is clenched in his fist tightly, undoubtedly wrinkling at the pressure. “Morgs! Morgana, Arthur didn’t do anything to me. In fact, he actually helped me out, surprisingly.”

After a considering look at Merlin, Morgana returns her glare back to him, this time questioningly. “Is that true? Because if it isn’t, Arthur, I will make your life living with me a _living Hell_.” Morgana threatens coldly, making the hairs on his arms stand up. He has never seen his sister like this before.

It scares the shite out of him.

Wide-eyed he furiously nods his head, that yes, he did help Merlin, and yes, what Merlin says is true, and _hell no he didn’t hurt Merlin so please don’t make life a living Hell._

Satisfied, Morgana nods at both of them.

“Then what happened?” She asks, seating herself beside Merlin and fussing over him like a mother hen. Merlin blushes and tries to pull away, but Morgana is having none of that, so after a moment, he stops squirming, letting out a huff as she titters on.

“You know how I am, always sticking my nose into other people’s business…” Morgana continues looking expectantly at him, wanting Merlin to elaborate. After a few beats of silence, Merlin sighs and ploughs on, “I stopped some bullying-turned-row at school, which, ultimately, led me here. Ta da!”

“That still isn’t very specific Merlin . . .” Morgana whips around to face the chair that Arthur has settled in, “Arthur, tell me what happened.”

“Morgs, he didn’t tell me either. He came to the library all bloodied, carrying a _bloody hot coffee_ for me like nothing was wrong, for God sakes, then didn’t say anything about it. He just pulled out his stuff and set about starting to work, which is when I saw his face, made him pack up and come home with me.”

Merlin nods his head slowly, before laying it on Morgana’s shoulder. He yawns loudly before snuggling further into her. “ ‘S true, all of it.” Another yawn. “Ugh I need to get _home_ , and eat . . . and sleep. It’s been a _long day_.”

"I bet sweety." Morgana says, petting Merlin's unruly hair. "Come on, let's get you home, we'll stop for some take away on the way."

"Okay." Merlin agrees, sitting up and picking up his things. They all stand and head out the door to the car, where Merlin slides into the back seat and buckles up, before leaning his head against the window. When he thinks no one is looking, his eyes look haunted and sad, like he was reliving old memories.

Arthur doesn't say anything about it.

It's not his business after all.

 

▪             ▪             ▪

 

Merlin doesn't show up to school the next day. It should surprise Arthur, but it really doesn't. Who would want to come to school with a bashed face and have to explain it a hundred times to various people? Merlin really wasn't one for great amounts of public exposure anyway.

The classes they shared still felt odd without the other boy though, like an integral part of them were missing. That thought alone made Arthur feel strange. Merlin's absence should not be affecting him this much.

Lunch was the worst though. It seems that the whole group had heard about what happened to Merlin and were all expressing varying shades of concern and anger.

"Does anyone know who did it?" Gwaine fumed from beside Percy. "He fucking came to this school to get away from this kind of shit, and now it's happening all over again! He doesn't deserve this."

Arthur turns curiously at Gwaine's statement. It seems everyone else has the same idea as they all turn their rapt attention over to Gwaine. "What do you mean Gwaine?" Percival asked softly, placing a light caress to Gwaine's elbow.

"He told me about the bullies at his old school, and how he had a friend who tried to help him out, but I think something happened to him. Probably something bad by the way Merlin closed off when he told me about him - Will was his name - and he was Merlin's only friend there. God, you should have seen his face that day, the day after Arthur was a right arse over the seat at the table, his eyes, he looked so sad and ... and lost or something. No, this definitely isn't the first time he's been attacked, but I'll be damned if it isn't the last."                

"Why didn't he tell any of us he was bullied?" Gwen asked with concern, Lance rubbing soothing circles into her hand.          

"Because he's a self-sacrificing idiot." Arthur blurted, earning the glare of everyone around the table. Arthur felt put out, and extremely guilty about how he'd always treated Merlin upon hearing about the bullying. Why was he such a prat, and why did Merlin just put up with it? "He told me that he was saving someone else from getting beat up yesterday, ha called them a friend, but he didn't tell me who he helped, or where it happened."              

"And why would he tell _you that Princess?_ " Gwaine sneered, "It's not like you've ever had anything nice to say to him, even though he's one of the most caring people you could ever meet, and always tries to be nice to everyone else.  I doubt he'd tell you anything like that."

"I  _found_ him Gwaine. He came to the library with a bloody, smashed face, bruises everywhere. It was horrible; I helped him. I took him home, wiped the blood from his face and knuckles, cleaned and bandaged his cuts , got him ice and a change of clothes. I even had Darlene get the blood out of his school kit. Look, I know you all hate me for how I've been around him, I kind of hate myself for it. I don't know why I do it okay, I really don't. I can admit it, I'm a giant dick, no, a great big bag of dicks, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry okay?"

"We're not the one's you should be apologizing to." Lance, ever the voice of reason, stated softly.

"I know." Arthur whispered.

Evreyone looked worried sick at his story, but they all seemed proud of what Arthur had said and done. Even in all of the terrible of the moment, a warmth settled in his chest. He had to make their pride worth it; he had to try and makes things right with Merlin.

It didn't have to be peachy keen, but maybe a bit more amicable on his part. He could be nice, he could.

"Now that we have Princess back to acting like a civilized human with emotions again, let's get back to figuring out who picked a fight with our Merlin." Gwaine said, effectively breaking the moment.

"It had to have happened here, he didn't have time to go anywhere else before we met at the library. It had to have been a student here." Arthur replied.

"Someone with a bone to pick with Merlin . . ." Leon trailed off.

"Val!" Lance voiced. "He's always hated Merlin."

"Maybe, he has said some horrible things about Merlin in the locker rooms."

"Yeah, but talking about something and actually doing it are two totally different things." Morgana interjected.

"We can't do anything until we know for sure. For now, let's just keep out a closer eye."

"Okay - hey, how about we go visit him later?"

To a chorus of consets they made plans to cheer Merlin up by bringing him sweets and company after school. Arthur opted out, feeling as though Merlin probably felt like he'd seen him enough in the past day. Anyway, he had to start working on some sort of apology for the other boy, a better one than just helping him out when he was bluddied and bruised.

Apologies were hard though!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and putting up with the wait. I really hope you liked it with Arthur's mixed up perspective haha. Anywho, kudos and comments always appreciated, even if you are just going to berate me about being late. Later loves. See you sooner than last time.


	6. Arthur 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She turns in confusion, “Were you expecting Arthur this morning? You should have said something.”
> 
> “Arthur? As in the prat –“
> 
> “ – Language Merlin – “
> 
> “ – is out there right now? Why?”
> 
> “I don’t know.”

The look of shock on Mum’s face when she had realized _Arthur_ , the Arthur of all his complaints, had been the one to help him, oddly reflected what he, Merlin, felt inside… Arthur had acted strangely decent for a prat, which had confused Merlin then, and still confused him a day later. Arthur was just confusing.

A confusingly handsome bully.

Not that Merlin noticed or anything like that.

Especially that prat...

After Arthur and Morgana had left Hunith had checked him over, again, looking for anything that Arthur could have overlooked, not having the medical experience she did. She gently prodded his ribs - that had hurt like a bitch -  which led her to the conclusion that they were bruised, or fractured, but she didn’t think it was _that_ serious.

“If the pain gets worse tell me, I might have to get them x-rayed,” she had commanded while wrapping his ribcage snuggly with one of the multiple wraps she had lying around the house. Merlin had agreed, trying not to wince as she pulled the wrappings tighter, securing them with plastic clips.

That had been two days ago, and he still felt awful and sore. He also looked repulsive, as the mirror reflected at him, that was the norm though. Well, the black and blue of the swollen skin wasn’t normal, but his face was the same. Pasty and uninteresting, too big ears that stuck out and disheveled hair.

That would never change.

Merlin had wept that night in bed, the darkness a shroud as his tears silently fell on the crisp white of his pillow. The years of bullying and abuse from his classmates at his previous school had come pounding into his memory.The rush of it had overwhelmed him. The images had started to flood into his mind in Arthur’s car, but he had pushed them away then. In the dark of night, he couldn’t hold them back any longer, the walls he had built weren’t that strong. The years of torment and blood, for being different, for being smart … for being gay. _A poofter, a bender!_ Apparently being gay and intelligent was a _crime_.

_Why did people hurt the ones that were different? What sick satisfaction did they get from targeting others?_ With all his wits, Merlin still couldn’t understand it, but he knew that it would never stop.

The bullies would always be bullies.

He had managed to hold the tears for his Mum as he told her what had happened during the fight, Merlin didn’t want to see her hurt over him. He hadn’t wanted to tell her at all really, claiming he was fine, but she sat him down after Morgana and Arthur had left and insisted he tell her over a cuppa. Merlin never could turn down a cuppa from his Mum, but he wished she wouldn’t worry so much about him. Merlin wished she would worry about herself and her well-being more often.

He could take care of himself.

She had enough on her plate to be constantly worrying about him.

He couldn’t stop her from worrying about him however, and though he may be hurt, he couldn’t regret helping Gilli. The other boy hadn’t deserved to be hurt any more than the black eye he had sported, or bullied, and Merlin hoped that Gilli took his advice and went to someone about Val. A teacher, or principal perhaps, but if that didn’t help, Merlin hoped Gilli got himself out of the situation and transferred schools. Sometimes that was the best option.

He would know...he’d done it.

Merlin couldn’t always be there to help him.

It was like him and Will all over again, except this time he was the hero. _What was the point of being a hero if you still get your arse handed to you?_ And Merlin didn’t even get the hot guy in the end!

Feckin’ messed up plot line if you asked him.

The bruises had gotten worse since the day of the fight, a mottled black and blue against his pale skin, but at least he knew that Val sported a few of his own. Merlin knew that he had gotten a few punches in at Val’s face, he had heard a crunch as he hit the bullies proud nose, so maybe it was broken, but who knew? Merlin just hoped Val would leave Gilli alone from now on.

He also wasn’t too keen on getting pounded again.

At least...not in that way…

_Other_ poundings were more enjoyable…

He hoped so anyway, he wouldn’t really know…

Didn’t really have any experience.

He’d never _been_ with anyone for fear of the bullying getting worse. It had anyway. People had found out about the scrawny queer boy.

Needless to say, Merlin had wanked a lot in the last two days of being home alone. Sure, his friends had visited him, bringing sweets and lots of love, along with a crushing hug from Gwaine, wringing a protestation from his bruised ribs, but he was alone for so long. Hours and hours. Wanking occupied the time, especially when he drew it out and teased himself. Between reading and watching the tellie there really wasn’t much else to do while alone.

And if he had fantasized about a peachy bum and shining golden hair, and maybe with a nice personality, well… there was nothing behind it. Completely harmless.

_At least he got the hot guy in his dreams._

  
▪          ▪           ▪

 

The next morning Hunith helps Merlin cover the worst of his bruises on his face with her concealer, which makes Merlin feel odd, but he’s grateful none the less. She smirks above him. “What?” He asks, he doesn’t like that look.

Shaking her head she replies, “I was just thinking we should put some khol around your eyes, finish the look.You’d look so pretty, and your eyes would pop, they’re so blue.”

“Mum!” Scandalized Merlin replies, “No! People will _notice_.”

“Oh I wouldn’t have put on a lot, just the barest little bit to outline...but I know you don’t want anyone to know about you. It’s _okay_ my boy.” _It’s not that he didn’t want people to know...he was just afraid of what would happen if they did…_ She ruffles his hair with a smile before giving an exasperated sigh, “It’s always the tie Merlin.”

She fixes it for him, putting up a stern front even as her lips twitch to smile. Merlin beams at his mum, then hugs her around the middle from where he’s sitting on the sofa. “Thank you Mum.” Whispering he, warmly adds, “I love you.”

She returns the hug fiercely, taking in a shuddering, quick breath, “I love you too, Merlin.”

They break from the hug with a jump as a car horn blares outside. Hunith walks to the curtains to take a quick peek, making a questioning noise when she pulls them open a smidge. “Who is it Mum?”

Merlin feels a little cold now that his mother’s arms aren’t around him, and he really wishes the hug weren’t interrupted. He feels like they both needed it.

She turns in confusion, “Were you expecting Arthur this morning? You should have said something.”

“Arthur? As in the prat –“

“ – Language Merlin – “

“ – is out there right now? Why?”

“I don’t know.” When Merlin doesn’t move from his seat Hunith gives him a pointed look, but Merlin was still a bit stunned, honestly. “Well go find out” She pushes him up, “Off you go.”

“I thought you didn’t like Arthur.”

“I don’t like how mean he was to you, but he helped you the other day, so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. He can’t be all bad if he helped my boy.”

Hunith pinches Merlin’s cheeks gently, as if he were still a small child. He smiles and playfully swats at her hands, rolling his eyes at her.

With that, Merlin reluctantly  walks outside. Arthur is sitting calmly in his car as it idles in the drive. The car is expensive and foreign, its sleek black exterior clashing obscenely with the rest of the modest neighbourhood. Old Mrs. Simmons would definitely have something to say about it with his Mum, the old gossip.

Merlin walks up to the driver’s side door, where Arthur hesitantly rolls the window down, as if Merlin were the one intruding. “Hello … Merlin.”

_Merlin...not Melvin nor Mervin or anything wrong...his actual name._

“Um, hello?” Merlin returns.

A few beats of awkward silence pass. Merlin puts his hands in his trouser pockets,away from the chilly air, waiting for Arthur to say _something_. When it looks like Arthur is content to sit there fidgeting awkwardly for longer Merlin takes matters into his own hands.

“So is there a reason you’re at my house...sitting in the drive...in silence?” Merlin asks with sweeping hand gestures. “Do you need something? Did something happen? Have you come to  insult me?” Arthur still sits there uncomfortably, as if battling what to reply with. “Arthur, you’re going to have to help me out here, I can’t read minds.”

Finally Arthur turns to look at him, still uncertain, but looking as if he had made up his mind. With confidence he states, “I came to offer you a ride to school” Merlin stands there shocked at the posh tone, he hadn’t expected that. _Why would Arthur do that if he didn’t like him?_ “You don’t have to accept of course. I mean, just thought I’d offer and um...I brought coffee?” Arthur offers, his voice questioning, suddenly not so confident again.

Merlin scrunches his eyebrows, lips twitching “Is that a question?”

“No … it’s even from that place you said you like.”

Merlin feels an odd warmth in his chest, which he attributes to the idea of his café’s lovely coffee. “Really? The café?”

Arthur rubs the back of his neck, before looking back up again, his cheeks pinker then when he had looked down. _Maybe the car was getting too warm?_ “Um...yeah, I stopped there on the way. Thought it would help things go smoother, since I’m not the easiest person to um… get along with... Usually… As you know.”

Merlin actually giggles at the uncertain way Arthur is behaving. _Giggles_ . At _Arthur_ . Arthur looks up at him with a confused glare when he giggles, which sobers Merlin because Arthur is actually _serious_. He actually is being thoughtful for once without being an utter spoiled prat. “Wow, uh, yeah, hold on I’ll be right back.”

Merlin hastily runs to the door tripping over his feet as he enters the house, where his Mum stands impatiently waiting, hands on her hips. “So?” She asks blue eyes sparkling.

“He came to offer me a ride...and coffee.” Merlin answers, voice rising at the end. His eyes dart around the room in confusion, biting his lip as he tries to figure the situation out.

“Really? Arthur?”

“It’s strange isn’t it… What if he’s just tricking me or something. What if when I get in the car he just starts beating me up or insulting me or being a big, fat, giant-headed inflated ego prat?”

Merlin worries at his lip nervously, but his Mum only smiles. “I doubt he would buy you coffee in a ploy to beat you up...and again, _language_ Merlin. Just get your stuff and go with him, there’s probably a reason behind it. Maybe he finally wants to apologize.”

“Yeah right, as if Arthur would apologize,” Merlin does as he’s told, grabbing his rucksack and uniform jacket from where they lay by the sofa. “If he beats me up Mum -”

“ - Yeah, yeah, it will be my fault. Don’t worry, I’ll personally kick his wealthy arse if he does anything to hurt you. Now go to school my beautiful boy, and be safe today.” Merlin blushes at his Mum’s words, but she just pecks him softly on the cheek, mindful of his concealed bruises, and ushers him out of the door, making sure he puts on his jacket on the way out, the air being nippy outside. “Love you dear.”

“Love you Mum.”

Merlin walks slowly to Arthur’s waiting car, rucksack flung over one shoulder. He climbs slowly into the passenger seat, mindful of his bruised ribs, and belts up. “Here, why don’t you put your stuff in the back.” Arthur says, taking Merlin’s rucksack and placing it  in the backseat. “It’ll give you more leg room.”

“Yeah...thanks.”

Merlin looks around, noting how different this ride is compared to the last time he was in Arthur’s car. Just two days, but yet so many things had changed. What had changed with Arthur? What was this?

“Here, your coffee; I hope you like it, you seem the creme type.”

Merlin mumbles a thanks as he takes the proffered coffee. He takes a sip, humming his approval as the hot liquid slides down his throat. It sooths him immensely, eases his nerves of being in the same car as Arthur for no discernable reason that he could fathom. Arthur looks at him with an indiscernible expression, going a bit wide-eyed when Merlin swallows again.

“So...How did you know I was coming back to school today?”

Arthur swiftly turns his head back to the road when he sees Merlin look his way. “Erm, I asked Morgana.”

Merlin looks out the window at the slowly passing houses, each one holding away its own little stories. Of people whose lives are all adventurous in their own way, but oh so boring in others. Adventurously boring.

_Why would Arthur be so curious about him?_

Next to him Arthur drums his fingers against the steering wheel with no pattern. His face is scrunched up in concentration, or something, and he’s biting the corner of his pink lips.

“Why?”

Merlin asks softly. “You’ve hated me for months, bullied me since the first day of school. Why now are you being nice?” Hair falls into his eyes as he looks down at his pale fingers around the coffee cup, the warmth from it not heating him enough at all.

Silence follows.

Of course Arthur wouldn’t answer. Who was Merlin to him but a nobody? Someone to bully. The natural order of things. Stupid order.

“I never hated you.” Arthur answers just as softly. Merlin barely catches it. He hears Arthur sigh with some type of emotion, he can’t tell, but he wishes he could. Wishes he could climb into the other boys mind and figure it out, the mind of Arthur. His hopes, his dreams, his likes and dislikes. His hatreds.

“It sure seemed that way to me.” Merlin says resigned, “You’ve called me hideous and repulsively big eared, a weak, ugly, skeletal bag of bones; a disgrace to the human race. Oh! How could I forget, my _personal favourite_ of your insults, that I am my mother’s mistake and that it was no wonder my father left.”

Merlin sucks in a breath and tries not to let the emotions he’s feeling make him cry. They were in the past. The anger and sadness and self loathing and loneliness. No. He won’t let himself cry.

He’s better than showing his weaknesses to Arthur.

Arthur’s knuckles tighten, turning white around the steering wheel.

“Next time you insult someone about an absent father, at least make sure that their father isn’t dead first, yeah? Really makes the joke fall flat.”

Arthur swears next to him. “Oh shite, oh - fuck - Merlin I am so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. God, I didn’t. I never realized how much of an utter pillock I was being. No wonder you call me prat all the time. I deserve it.” Arthur runs a shaky hand through his golden hair as he bites his lip. The sincerity of his actions don’t seem to fit him in Merlin’s opinion. Where was the golden “great” Arthur?

The one who got everything he wanted and did as he pleased. The footie playing jock with all the friends who were just as fake as him.

“You’re probably the smartest person I know, and you’re sarcastic and funny - shite - and uh” Arthur stopped to catch his breath, his forehead scrunching in thought, “You’re one of the nicest, gentlest, most sincere people I have ever met, and I just saw you as vulnerable but you aren’t. You’re really not. Actually one of the most stubborn people I’ve had the fortune of meeting.”

Merlin doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t.

Arthur turns the corner into the school car park, driving to the back of the lot before cutting the ignition. They’re parked under a giant tree, leaves of gold above them. Merlin turns to face him, utterly confused as to whether he should be angry at the way Arthur has treated him in the past, or to give the prat a chance and forgive him. Maybe he could angrily forgive him...well he had already tried being the better person and being nice to Arthur at the library, maybe he could continue on and kill him with kindness.

Continue with Uncle Gaius's advice.

Arthur truly did look sorry. His eyes were a bit glossy and he was chewing the corner of his lip raw. Arthur takes a long sip from his own drink before turning to look at him. Blue eyes bore into blue.

Different, but maybe not so different after all.

“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but forgive me? I understand if you never want to see me again, I get it, but please know that I’m sorry. I feel horrible about what I said, I really do, especially about your father and… I know how it feels, my Mum died when I was young. I’m sorry...is there any way I could make it up to you? I know it doesn’t make up for everything I’ve put you through, but it might help. So, anything?”

Arthur looked at him with such an open, vulnerably hopeful expression that Merlin couldn’t help but agree, couldn’t help but forgive, couldn’t help but give him another chance. “I think you’re off to a pretty good start,” Merlin says with a wink and a tilt of his coffee cup to Arthur, “keep it up and we’ll see how it goes.”

Arthur lets out a surprised bark of laughter before sobering and nodding with determined fire in his eyes. “I will.”

Merlin opens the door and gets out, going to the back to get his rucksack. Arthur is watching him from across the top of the car, which is strange, but when has Arthur ever been normal? “Thank you for the ride Arthur, and the coffee. I’m kind of glad we had that talk actually.”

“It’s just the beginning, I promise.”

That fiery determined look is back in his eyes. Merlin feels an odd twitch in his chest looking at Arthur like this.

Merlin doesn’t have the heart to tell him not to make promises he can’t keep, not when Arthur looks so hopeful and determined. So he doesn’t, instead giving a quick nod and heading across the car park to the red brick school building.

“The bruises are looking much better today.” Arthur says once he catches up to him by Avalon’s entrance.

“Mum covered them with concealer. They’re still nasty as hell.”

“Oh,” an awkward beat of silence follows, “Are you ever going to tell the group who did it?”

“Eventually.” Merlin hadn’t really thought of it, “Once it’s all ended probably.”

“That’s stupid. You should let us help you.”

That angers Merlin, he doesn’t _need_ help, especially coming from Arthur of all people, he couldn’t trust him yet. _“Shut up_. Until ten minutes ago you hated me and were just as bad as the guy who gave me these. You’ve got no room to talk at the moment I’m afraid.”

“Suppose not,” Arthur mumbles, head hanging. Merlin thinks that he’s probably hiding a hurt expression, but he really can’t be sure, even so it bothers him a little. He doesn’t know Arthur, only the image he plays, but he doesn’t like to see anyone hurt , even if they are prats. “Just ask if you need help okay? Any of them. They freaked out when they found out about you. I don’t want them or you to go through it again. All of you deserve better., especially you.”

The sincerity again hits Merlin. It’s so strange to see this Arthur, the one who _cares_.

“You’re doing it again.” Merlin says as he walks into first period. Arthur follows him in, even though it’s not his class, with a confused expression on his face.

“Doing what?”

“Being a decent human being.”

Arthur makes a little ‘o’ face leaning against the desk opposite Merlin. “It feels good to be decent.” Arthur smiles, the first real smile of his Merlin has ever seen. Without his permission he feels the twitch of the corner of his mouth lifting, but he can’t stop it.

“Keep at it prat.”

  
▪          ▪           ▪

 

“So get this, I’m trying to show off at the pool last summer, there were quite a few cuties of either sex there, you know, and right when I’m about to do a dive, I slip and flop into the pool…” Gwaine looks at him as they walk from the cafeteria line to their table as Merlin laughs softly, shoulders shaking. “Let’s just say I didn’t get any that day.”

“What a sad da - “

Merlin abruptly stops when he feels something thump into the back of his head. He spins around looking for what hit him before catching Val’s eyes. He’s smirking, waving a carrot slice slightly through the air. There’s another one laying on the floor by Merlin. Of course he should have known it would be Val.

The no good wanker.

Gwaine stops a few steps ahead of him and turns around, realizing Merlin isn’t next to him anymore.

Val glares at Merlin, tearing a bite off the carrot with his garish teeth.

Val’s nose was perfectly fine...Merlin didn’t know how he felt about that, he was kind of hoping that he would have done _some_ damage to the other hulking beast of a  boy...but apparently not.

_Shame._

“Everything alright Merlin?” Gwaine comes up next to him, placing a hand gently to his shoulder.

“Hm?” Merlin breaks eye contact, turning to Gwaine, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat mate.”

Gwaine scrunches his brows at him, but Merlin ignores it and starts walking to where the group is sat. Everyone waves and smiles as he gets closer, and Merlin can’t help but smile back. These people loved him, Merlin could feel it.

“Merlin! You’re back!” Percival, the gentle giant, says excitedly. Gwen and Lance look relieved to see him; Morgana rubs his forearm as he sets his tray down. Arthur is next to her, smiling slightly at everyone. They lock eyes and Merlin nods at him.

“Yeah Perce, I couldn't let you lot have all the fun. You know, with all the homework, rude people, and all...actually I _can_ let you have all the fun, I’m going home, never coming back.” Merlin pretends to turn around and walk away as everyone laughs. After a few steps, he turns back with a smile and plops down in his usual seat.

Merlin tries not to wince as a jolt of pain shoots up his ribs, stuffing a chip in his mouth to distract himself. Hopefully, no one noticed.

Gwen looks at him earnestly, “Well, we missed you Merlin.”

“Oh me too love. I was getting bored being all alone.”

They start eating again, everyone filling him in on everything that had happened in the last two days. Sofia had gotten a new boy toy...who just happened to be 24, Mr. Aredian, the Witchfinder had made six student’s cry in one day, a personal record, and Gilli had begun paperwork for a school transfer.

The last one made Merlin pause. Gilli had listened, had actually followed Merlin’s advice. Well, that was fantastic. Merlin was proud of the younger boy. He would finally be away from Val, which was always a cause for celebration.

It wasn’t technically running from the problem per say, but avoiding calamity.

“Oh, speaking of Aredian” Merlin turns toward where Arthur sits dipping a chip in ketchup, “Arthur, is there anything else we need to do for the essay?”

“No, I already finished up the bibliography page, so there’s nothing else to do” Arthur looks up with a flash of an awkward, tentative smile. “We’re good Merlin.”

Merlin smiles, “Brilliant...It’s in alphabetical sequence right? With hanging indent and everything?” Arthur nods his head as he stuffs the ketchuped chip into his mouth. “Good job Arthur. Thanks for finishing it up.”

“Thank you, it was really no problem though.”

Everyone glances between the two of them, then at each other, noticing the lack of snide remarks and hurtful words between the two boys, especially coming from Arthur. What was happening? Had they all died and gone to a place where Arthur wasn’t a giant prat to Merlin? Were they all in heaven?

Arthur nods towards Merlin, his lips upturned. Merlin returns the gesture awkwardly, and so lunch continues with no ill will coming from either of them.

The rest of the group is left utterly confused.

 

▪          ▪           ▪

 

After school Merlin walks with the girls to the stands while the rest of the group heads to the locker rooms to change into their footie kits. Some of the players are already on the field warming up, stretching before practice. Footsteps come up behind them before someone is barreling into Merlin’s side, their knuckles somehow grinding into the swollen bruise on his ribs.

Merlin just manages to keep his footing, but the throbbing pain in his side makes it hard to stay that way. He looks up to see Val’s face in his view, his form retreating backwards, “Oops!” he calls with a smirk, looking positively gleeful in his cleats and footie kit, tall broad bulking body blocking out the sun.

“Merlin, are you okay -” Gwen gasps.

At the same moment that Morgana mumbles, “Val needs to watch where the hell he’s running - hideous oaf.”

He doesn’t respond, instead trying not to cry in front of the whole footie team at the pain in his side. Damn Val and remembering where he had hit during the fight. Merlin stays hunched over slightly, his arm cradling  his ribs.

Another pair of footsteps comes pounding up behind them as Merlin tries to take deep, steadying breaths in and out. That proves difficult when even breathing hurts. The footsteps stop. Warm hands slide onto his shoulders, as someone comes and stands behind him.

“Watch where the hell you’re going Val!” Arthur’s voice rings out, angry and loud in Merlin’s ear. The hands on his shoulders move to his arms and slowly help him spin around, until they’re face to face. “Are you alright, Merlin?”

He just manages to nod his head, “Just peachy. Never - oh - never better” before Arthur is speaking again.

“Merlin - shut up.” Merlin huffs and glares at Arthur, “Come on,  let’s get you to the stands.”

“No, I don’t really fancy it.”

“Too bad. Come on, up you get.”

Merlin groans, but accepts Arthur’s help to straighten his position, ribs screaming all the while.

The pair of them hobble along slowly, Morgana and Gwen following just behind, concern written on their faces. Once he’s seated, Arthur kneels before him, looking earnestly into Merlin’s eyes. “Is it your ribs?” Merlin nods at his question. “The same place as before? Where that nasty bruise from the other day was?” He nods again.

“Yeah.” Merlin replies, voice strained. “Same feckin’ place.” He lets out a self deprecating chuckle - then abruptly stops because _shite, that hurts._ “Val is sure making it hard for me to not hate him, the wanker.”

“It’s okay to hate him, we all do.”

“I agree with Morgana” Gwen nods, “And I don’t hate anyone... Well, usually.”

Merlin smiles up at her, “Well that makes me feel much better about myself then.” Merlin lets his gaze wander again, falling once more on Val. The other boy is wearing a confused expression, focused on Arthur.

Val feels his gaze and shifts to look Merlin in the eye. He glares at Merlin, a curl bares his teeth, and Merlin swiftly looks away, back to Arthur’s questioning gaze.

“Well, what do you think? Do you want Morgana to take you home to check it out, have your Mum look it over maybe?”

Gwen and Morgana add something to what Arthur says, but Merlin is stuck on how  much nicer Arthur is being, how kind the other boy is when he’s not being a giant bag of dicks. He doesn’t hear what the girls say, only focuses on the fact that Arthur is actually concerned for him.

It had only been one day though, who knows how long it would last anyway. Probably an arbitrarily short amount of time… Who wouldn’t want to bully Merlin? Apparently he was prime real estate for the job.

Has been for years.

His breathing steadies somewhat, it becoming easier to breath now that he’s sitting. The pain throbs and pounds against his ribs, but it’s not the smarting, stabbing pain of before. That makes it a bit more tolerable. A slightly muddied voice reaches his ears, the tone a bit agitated and concerned, whatever they were saying had been repeated multiple times.

“Hm - what - no. No I’ll be fine once I settle. I’ll just sit quietly until practice is over, then take the bus home” Merlin internally cries at the thought of the bumpy, bouncing bus ride home - what a nightmare. “Couldn’t disappoint the rest of the lot by missing another practice. I add moral support you know.”

“The bus?!” Arthur looks horrified, “God no, I’ll give you a lift.” Arthur makes a disgusted noise in his throat, “ The bus? Really Merlin. That’s revolting.”

“Not all of us are spoiled, rich prat's with sports cars.”

Arthur opens his mouth as if to argue, his finger waving through the air like a command, but stops. “Right. I am being a giant prat again aren’t I? Well...shite. Merlin, I’m sorry. Truly I am. I’ll give you a lift if you want, if not, that’s alright, but you’re good, yeah?”

Merlin nods his head meekly, a little angry still at Arthur’s comment, but accepting it for now. “Right, well, ladies… and Merlin, I’ve got to get practising, see you after.” With that he turns away and starts jogging to the players already warming up, mumbling under his breath, “Dammit, everything was going so well too! I'm so stupid.”

Merlin watches him go...well his bum more than anything. For all that Arthur is a confusing, arrogant prat, he does have that peachy bum of his. In a way, it makes up for some of the prat-ishness. Not all of it -Lord no- but some of it.

Him, Gwen, and Morgana all relax in the stands, the pain slowly dulling once more as they watch the players run drills across the field. Every once in a while Merlin catches Arthur looking up at him, his golden hair shining in the dull sunlight. What worries Merlin, however, is the way Val keeps looking at him...predatorily...angrily....venomously, almost snakelike in his gaze.

Well... _shite_.

 

▪          ▪           ▪

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this over Thanksgiving break, but that didn't happen, obviously, and I'm so sorry about that. The chappie also turned out longer than I expected, but I think you deserve it, and I really just couldn't stop writing. I've already started with the next chappie, so hopefully that goes up in the very near future as well. Merry/Happy Christmas, or Kwanzaa or Hanukkah.


	7. Boy, Actually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odd. Usually he had good gaydar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright you lot, I have had this chappie in the works for months, and I feel horrible about it. I didn't know how to end it, so I left it half finished for weeks, and for that I am sorry. I should be posting sooner now though. I've already figured out where this story is heading, so I've got an outline. Hope you like the chapter, and thank you for actually reading this and giving kudos/commenting, it really makes my year. Love you! P.S the chap is a bit long.

“Merlin, you still up for heading to the shops?” Morgana asked, sitting between him and Gwen on his sofa at home. It was finally friday, movie night, and they had decided at footie practice yesterday that they would shop today before that. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and in pain the whole time.

“I’m fit as a fiddle...a sore fiddle, but fit none the less.” Merlin replied, leaning his head against Morgana’s shoulder. “Trust me Morgs, I want to go...actually I need to go - Mum’s running out of concealer because of me, says I need to buy her more, like I actually _want_ to wear the stuff. 

Merlin chuckles to himself, because really, how much gayer could that get, _buying makeup_? Morgana and Gwen share a worried look, both chuckling awkwardly at the tone the conversation had taken. 

Gwen looks around Morgana at him, “You’re coming to movie night afterwards, right? You’ve had to miss the last couple because of your restriction, and we’ve missed you. Lance even said he would buy a whole pizza specially for you, with all your favourites on it.”

“I’m coming Gwen, I am, promise.” 

Morgana and Gwen smile at him as he stands, stretching his arms into the air slowly, his ribs twinge,  as a yawn escapes him. He chuckles at them, a goofy grin spreading on his face. “I’m going to go change out of this uniform before we leave, be right back.”

“Getting cute for us?” Morgana calls up to him as he ascends the stairs, “How sweet!”

Merlin laughs, yelling ,“Shut it!” through his laughter.

Upon entering his room Merlin raids his closet, looking for something comfortable and cosy for the crisp autumn weather. He lays out a pair of light wash skinnies, a navy- coloured long sleeve tee, and one of his favorite scarfs, a deep maroon one his Mum had bought him for his birthday last year. He throws his school kit off, leaving it to wrinkle on his bed, as he pulls on his choice outfit. After he’s got his shirt pulled over his wrapped ribs and down his chest, he tucks it into his jeans before buttoning them up.

Merlin rolls cuffs into his jeans so that his wool,maroon and blue print socks are visible between his sneakers and jeans. He quickly throws his scarf around his neck, tying a knot with the two ends and adjusting it so it lies flat on his chest. Merlin gives a ruffle to his hair, grabbing his light, chestnut coloured jacket on the way out of his room.

As he descends the stairs he slides his arms into the jacket, patting his pockets to make sure he has his keys, phone, and wallet before leaving the house. Merlin sends a text to his Mum to remind her of his trip to the shops, before walking into the sitting room where Gwen sits, eyes on her phone, probably texting Lance, and Morgana checks her makeup in her compact.

Morgana looks up upon his entrance, a smile spreading on her face as she lets out a low whistle. Gwen’s chocolate eyes shoot up, excitement lighting her face. He suddenly feels self conscious about his appearance, the scrutiny of the girls overwhelming him a tad. 

“Merlin, you look great.”

Heat rises to his ears and cheeks as Merlin ducks his head away from them. Cheeks glowing, he turns to the door and mumbles a “let’s go” at his friends. 

“Merlin, you are the most modest, insecure, pretty person I have ever met,” Morgana states, as Gwen walks to the driver’s side, beeping the car unlocked, “You’re like a model and don’t even know it. Honestly.” 

Merlin shakes his head, his cheeks reddening further to a bright scarlet. “Says the woman who could make any man beg with just a look.” Merlin looks at the two of them from the back of Gwen’s little yellow volkswagen bug before adding, “Like goddesses - the both of you!”

The girls erupt into a tinkling of laughter, which just further proves Merlin’s point about them. Absolutely, ridiculously beautiful, the both of them.

“While we’re on the topic of good-looking, fit people, which, thank you by the way” Gwen babbles on as per usual, the usual endearing flustered speech she gets when nervous or excited, or both, “...how do you feel about Freya?” 

Merlin looks at Gwen curiously, red still tinging his cheeks. “The girl from history? Feel - how do you mean? She’s nice, I suppose. Quiet, but nice. The Witchfinder made her cry once in class, the poor thing.” 

Gwen glances at him through the rearview mirror, eyebrow raising. “Anything else?”

“No, why? What happened...am I supposed to not like her or something? Or, did something happen to her? What’s wrong?” 

Morgana rolls her eyes from the passenger seat, “Oh God - do you fancy her, Merlin!?” 

Merlin’s eyes widen in shock. “What? No! What gave you that impression? I’ve never even spoken to her.”

Gwen bites her lip, “She asked me if you were interested, apparently she’s fancied the pants off of you since your first day.” 

“She fancies _me_? Why?” 

“Because you’re hot, with your cheekbones and baby blues and the just-shagged bed head...not to mention you’re smart,” Morgana explains, tapping her temple with her forefinger, “Intelligence is sexy.” 

His cheeks heat up once more. “Oh...erm, no. I don’t fancy her at all, sorry.” He replies shyly, hand rubbing the back of his head, ruffling his hair even further. “I really am sorry. Now I feel bad for her.” 

He was a _bit too gay_ for actually fancying a girl. 

“Don’t be, sweetheart. If you don’t fancy her, you don’t fancy her. You can’t change that. I’ll just tell her that you’re not interested in a relationship or something. She’s sweet, she’ll get over it and find someone.” 

A few seconds pass, Merlin staring out of the window sullenly. “Yeah.” He agrees. _But when will I be able to be interested in someone? To find someone sweet? When will it be alright for me to actually be with someone freely?_

Sometimes he hated society. He wanted to be free and accepted and loved by a nice man who would kiss him, and hug him, and care about him. Was that really too much to ask for - love? 

Morgana breaks him from his thoughts, “Are you interested in anyone though? Any cuties taking your fancy?”

“Not particularly, no.” 

He doesn’t mean to sound like a sullen, petulant child, but his voice comes out that way anyway. 

“No one?” Gwen asks as she turns a corner, “No pretty blonde girls? Or are you more the sporty brunette type? Geeky bookworms? Oh, a theatre girl? Maybe a musician?”

“Gwen!”

Gwen abruptly stops rambling at Merlin’s outburst. He forces out a chuckle, the sound fake even to his own ears. “I’m not interested in anyone.”

“Liar!” Morgana yells. “You have to find someone attractive. At least one person has to be considered fit to you.”

Exasperated and a bit sad, he replies, “Morgs, I am not interested in any _girls_ from school, okay?” Merlin rubs his face, hands sliding to run through his hair tiredly. “Let’s drop it for now loves, alright? Please?” 

Gwen and Morgana share a look, eyebrows dancing, a whole conversation at a glance. “Fine.” Morgana agrees decisively, “But in no way think that this discussion is over; you helped me get with Leon, I have to return the favour.”

“Yeah, we’ll find you someone yet, Merlin!” 

Merlin shoots a small smile at them both. _Brilliant...Just what he needed._

It’s not that he didn’t want the girls to know that he was gay...but if they knew, they would try to set him up with someone, then the whole school would know. He couldn’t have that happening, not after the reaction the wankers at his old school gave him. He could do without being beat up for that as well. _God, what would Val do to him if he found out?_  

Merlin shivered at the thought. Lots of pain, definitely. Val’s big, meaty fists were made for cruel acts. 

He had been acquainted already. 

“Oh, are you cold Merlin? I can turn the heating higher.” 

Gwen’s question tears Merlin from his thoughts for the second time in such a short timespan, and he realizes that he hasn’t stopped shivering since his thoughts turned to Val. “No, I’m good Gwen. Thanks.” 

“You’re sure?”

Merlin nods his head, then starts humming along to the music playing softly in the car as the girls talk between themselves.

 

▪       ▪        ▪

 

“Which do you think loves,” Morgana asked, holding two cashmere scarves up to herself, “The blue or the green?”  Eyes inquiring, she looks from Gwen to Merlin, who had been admiring the scarves himself. They were quite soft- maybe he could buy one for his Mum.

“Green, it will go with your eyes,” Gwen replies, already reaching for the blue, to put it away. Merlin agrees with her, and takes the blue one out of her grasp gently. She scrunches her brow in confusion at him, “Don’t get me wrong, the blue will go great on you Merlin, but it’s a woman’s scarf. Not that you can’t wear women’s things, and like women’s clothes or anything of course! Um, it’s lovely, it’ll look great on you, and - “

Merlin blushes at her stammered words, shifting awkwardly on his feet. What made Gwen think he was buying it for himself? 

“Gwen, I’m getting it for my Mum, she needs a new scarf for winter, and blue’s her favourite colour.” 

“Oh! Well, okay. That’s incredibly sweet of you.” 

“Definitely...Wouldn’t he make just the sweetest boyfriend, Gwen?” 

Merlin blushes again , in anger or embarrassment he can't tell, perhaps both, and rolls his eyes at Morgana’s antics. Morgs could be incredibly persistent when she wanted to be, sometimes verging on annoying. 

“Morgana.” He warns, folding the scarf over his arm, a bit jerky in his movements. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave it alone…" 

With a grateful smile he continues to follow them around, Morgana leading the way to a pretty yellow dress she thinks will look _‘just perfect’_ on Gwen. 

Going from shop to shop they rack up quite a few bags, before they decide to take a break and get coffee from the Starbucks in the shopping center. They all three settle into a small, secluded booth in the far corner at the back, watching as other passers-by hurry from one shop to the next, bags seeming to fly in their grips. Everyone is beginning to bundle up more to fight the cold, autumn’s chill taking a firm, crisp grip.

“You know, Merlin” Morgana begins, “You’re much more fun to take shopping than Gwaine. All he does is flirt with everyone, and flip his hair around. He’s the pickiest shopper I know - he’s honestly worse than I am, and that’s really saying something.”

“Yeah, it takes him forever to decide which shirt looks best with his hair and is  tight enough on his chest, it’s a bit ridiculous.” Gwen laughs out, sipping from her espresso. “And none of the other boys ever want to come out with us. Well Lance does sometimes, but he just does that to please me, which I don’t mind, obviously, because I love being around him and spending time with him, but he really doesn’t have all that much fun.” 

“Glad I’m fun to be around.” 

Merlin smiles, a feeling of contentedness washing over him as he looks back at his smiling friends. The coffee warmed his body, its sweet taste lingering on his tastebuds. Chocolate and happiness swirling around his insides as the low hum of life reaches his ears.

“Much more fun than Arthur, especially, he just pouts and murmurs nonsense.”

“He’s not that bad Morgs,” Gwen argues, “He does complain a lot though.”

Merlin smirks, because that sounds like Arthur, always pratty and pouty. _And why is he smiling when he’s thinking of Arthur - what the hell?!_ Merlin quickly schools his features... he honestly doesn’t know why he smiled. 

“Oh knowing Arthur, he probably secretly likes heading to the shops but pretends not to in that constipated way of his. He’s always pretended to hate things he actually likes. I blame it on Uther, that man doesn’t know how to express his feelings” Morgana stops talking, sipping at her drink and looking at Merlin thoughtfully, calculating, like a thought has just occurred that she hadn’t previously considered. Her dark, perfectly plucked, brow pulls upwards, red lips pursing in thought.

“Speaking of my brother dear, what is going on between you and him Merlin? Gwen and I thought he was bluffing when he said he was going to be nice to you, but so far, he seems to have been telling the truth.” 

“We thought he wouldn’t go through with it,” Gwen adds, nodding, “But from what I’ve seen so far, he is actually being decent towards you. Which, he usually is with people, but he never has been with you, so it’s really quite odd, isn’t it?”

The girls look expectantly at him while he sips his coffee, staring back over the rim of his cup. He didn’t know either, so how was he supposed to respond to that?

“Um, I don’t know, honestly. He showed up at my house yesterday morning with coffee and apologized for everything, then drove me to school. Actually, he did that again this morning, the coffee and ride to school...It’s weird. I don’t know what’s going on really...Arthur has always been an insufferable prat, but I think he was genuine with the apology” Merlin blushes, running his fingers through his hair as the girls look at him in shock, “We have actually had normal conversations without Arthur being cruel and insulting. I mean, I’m not complaining, I’m good without all the rude name calling.”

“Merlin, Arthur never apologizes, like ever. He usually just pretends like it didn’t happen, or tries to make it up to the other person with gifts and things.” Morgana replies, leaning back, shocked, in her seat. “But he never apologizes.” 

“Morgana’s right, this is big, Merlin. He must feel horrible about what he did to you. I’m surprised he’s not more awkward around you, he usually gets like that when he’s incredibly wrong-footed.” 

“Oh no, he’s plenty awkward. He’s stammered and blushed and everything. I almost laughed, but I didn’t want to make him feel bad, but then again he was a massive prat before...” Merlin muses, bringing his cup up to meet his lips, blue eyes sparkling, “Maybe next time I should laugh to get back at him. Pay the prat back.”

At Gwen’s worried glance Merlin amends, “Gwen, I was kidding, I’m not going to do anything. I’d rather keep the new Arthur, he’s much better than the old one.”

“You know, I thought he was going to punch Val the other day after he ran into you on the  footie pitch. Arthur looked quite protective the way he held you,” Merlin blushes livid red, he wasn’t being held, he was being propped up, which actually doesn’t sound much better now that he thinks about it… “His neck veins went all poppy when he yelled at Val, it was funny and a bit frightening. I’ve never seen him like that.” 

Merlin coughs awkwardly at the image of a yelling Arthur, veins straining against the skin of his neck, bright, golden glowing hair flowing in the chilly breeze. He kind of wishes that he weren’t hunched over when it happened...He’s sure the real thing was even better than the captivating picture his mind has created. It would have made an interesting sight.

“Yes well… Arthur was just helping me like he did that day at the library. It’s not like I needed it or anything...but the help was nice, better than what it used to be anyway.”

Gwen, smiling, grabs his hand in comfort, “I’m glad that you two are finally getting along.”

Merlin smiles back at her, “God, I am too.”

“The group will finally be at peace.”

The thought that he, well, he and Arthur, made such a stur within the group of friends makes Merlin feel ashamed, like somehow it was all his fault. Obviously it wasn’t, but he can’t help but feel like it was, for some reason. Guilt gnaws at his stomach. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nope, no. You are not to blame, alright Merlin? It’s not your fault, you only defended yourself. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me, nothing.” 

Merlin sniffles, eyes going a little more moist than he wanted or expected. Not that he would admit that Gwen’s words had struck a chord somewhere deep in his heart, and had reverberated there. He nods, eyes downcast.

“Oh look over there,” Morgana interjects, trying to change the subject, “I think that girl is making eyes at you Merlin, and she’s not bad looking.”

Merlin huffs. “Not interested Morgs.” 

“You didn’t even look! How could you know?” Morgana points an accusatory finger at him. “At least look at her, then tell me.” 

Merlin glances at where Morgana was pointedly looking, seeing the girl she was talking about sitting alone at a table across the coffee shop. The girl was pretty, but really, that didn’t effect Merlin at all. 

_Obviously._

The _boy_ a few tables away from the girl, however, was incredibly fit, shaggy blond hair shiny in its sweep across his forehead. He looks up, green eyes meeting Merlin’s blue ones, then with a smirk, the boy winks at him. Merlin blushes, can feel the tips of his ears heat with the flush that travels across his face.

His eyes drop to the floor as a small smile crosses his face. A quick glance up shows that the boy was still watching him, smirking around a sip from his paper cup. 

“Oh my God. You’re gay!” Morgana states suddenly, watching the exchange between the mystery boy and Merlin with a question in her eyes. 

Merlin whips around, panicking, breath already starting to quicken in his bruised chest. Each intake short and sharp, chopping like a knife across a cutting board.The dull pain he feels in his chest makes him think of Val, and how he could beat him up whenever he wants, and he would want to, because now he would find out Merlin was gay, because the girls knew. 

_He was going to get beat up. He was going to get beat up. He was going to get hurt. Oh god! His Mum would worry about him, and he’d pretend he was fine when he was actually hurting and exhausted and in pain and in need of love._

_It was happening again. He’d get bullied and beat up terribly, then he’d have to change schools again. No. no._  

_He couldn’t breath. His chest hurt. What was happening? What was happening? He needed to stop._  

_Stop._  

_STOP!_

_He needed to. He needed…_  

“Merlin!” Gwen’s voice cut through, worried, like it wasn’t the first time she had called his name without him responding. Merlin finally looked at her, as if through fog, her face distorted. He realized he was crying. He heard a hitching noise, and it matched with the pain in his chest. _It must be me then._ “Merlin, sweety, you need to calm down. It’s okay, just breath. Shhh. Slowly, in - good, that’s good - and out. Again. You’re doing great, just keep breathing.” 

Hands smoothed his hair as someone wiped a tear off his cheek. The breathing, it seemed to be helping to clear away the fog of panic that was clouding his mind and vision. Gwen’s soothing words lulling him into calmness. “They can’t know. At school, they can’t know. They’ll hurt me. Like they did before, _they’ll hurt me_. I can’t do that again, not like it was before. I can’t. I can’t.”

“Merlin,” Morgana stroked his hair, “Merlin, no one is going to hurt you. That’s what you’ve got us and the lads for. We’ll protect you. I promise. No one, that you don’t want to, will find out.” 

“Okay” Merlin replied, wiping his eyes, nodding, “Okay, alright. Right, good.” After a deep, shaky breath in, he relaxes, looking at the girls, who stare back in worry. “I’m sorry for that. I - I don’t know what that was.” 

“Stop apologizing, it’s not your fault.” 

“I mean, I did want you lot to know, but I don’t want the whole school finding out again. I’ve dealt with pig-headed, homophobic bullies enough to last me a lifetime. I could do without ...” 

“We know Merlin,” Morgana soothed, rubbing his hand with her thumb, “Gwaine told us about the bullying at your previous school. You’re allowed to keep secrets, just know that you don’t _have_ to with us. We are here for you, alright? We love you Merlin.”

“Thank you. You’ve no idea how much this means to me. Honestly. You’re the best friends a lad could have.” 

Gwen smiles at him indulgently, “And don’t feel alone, you’re not the only gay one in the group. Well Gwaine is bi, so is Percy, but those two have been dancing around each other forever, they really need to just kiss or something, goodness. But Arthur is gay, and like you, he doesn’t want the whole school knowing about it. Our little group is the only ones who know.” 

Merlin stares in shock at the news. Gwaine, he had guessed about, had known about actually, and Percival for that matter, but Arthur? _The Arthur_? Mister golden hair, rough-tough, footie captain all the girls fawn over, Arthur? No, he hadn’t seen that one coming. Not in a hundred years. 

Odd. Usually he had good gaydar...

Morgana, with a bemused expression adds, “I guess we’re good at keeping secrets.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“About Arthur? Oh yeah, Arthur’s gayer than Sir Elton John. And those are his words not mine.” 

Merlin chokes on the sip of tepid coffee in his mouth. “Morgana, I doubt he said that about himself.” Gwen laughs, chocolate eyes sparkling with mirth. 

“No, oh no, he said it. Ask any of the lads, they’ll tell you.” A laugh bubbles up from Merlin’s mouth, happy and warm, and not at all panicking like he was before. It felt nice that his friends knew he was gay, well some of them did anyway. “To be fair, he was pissed drunk, though. But he said it, and I’m never letting him live it down.” 

“Oh my God!” Gwen exclaims, eyes wide, “Wasn’t that the night he wore that pink boa scarf and the red heart eye glasses with the glitter on them?” 

Merlin can’t hold the laugh that erupts from his mouth, head thrown back, pale neck exposed as he shakes with mirth. Shakes like a leaf in the springtime wind. “Oh God, please tell me you have a picture Morgana.” 

The evil little smirk that takes over her face ensures Merlin that she does, in fact, have a picture. “Loads” she replies. The way Morgana replies lets Merlin know that he will be seeing every single one of those pictures sooner or later. It makes him ecstatic, but also a little weary of ever getting on Morgana’s bad side. Oh, the things she could do. 

“You are a wonderful, frightening, woman. I hope Leon appreciates that.”

The smirk grows wider on  her face as she replies to him, “Oh trust me, _he does_ . _Very much_.”

Merlin has a feeling that Morgana is talking about more than one thing with the way her eyes have gone mischievous and dark. 

“Ew, stop it Morgana! You’re making bedroom eyes, and that’s something I really don’t want to imagine. You’re my friend, don’t insinuate those types of thoughts in my mind. Please. I don’t want to think about you and...and _Leon_ in that way.” 

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad Merlin….We use protection ...” At that Merlin throws his hands up to cover his ears, trying to bar out the noise as one would try to block the screeching of a banshee. The girls both raise their brows at him, coy little smiles playing on their faces. Merlin pouts, scowling at the both of them. A few moments pass, Merlin deeming it safe to drop his hands, does, _slowly_. Morgana doesn’t miss a beat, “Gwen and Lance do it too!” 

“Oh come _on_!” 

The girls laugh at Merlin as he scowls back at them, trying to rid his mind of the images they’ve created. No, he doesn’t want to think of his friends in such compromising conditions. All flushed bodies and wet panting and the smell of sweat and sex. Nope. Nope. _Nope_. 

He’d rather keep them innocent in his mind, _thank_ you very much. 

“It’s not like you haven’t done it Merlin.” He flushes scarlet, red as a tomato, and doesn’t meet their eyes. Morgana speaks again. “Wait, you have, haven’t you?”

Merlin coughs, rubbing the back of his scalp. “You haven’t?”

The heat reaches his ears, colouring all the way up, climbing to reach the tips. Another cough. He shakes his head, still looking down. “But you’re so pretty.” 

He shrugs, swirling the last dregs of his coffee in the cup. “Why not?”

“Morgana!” Gwen admonishes, placing a light slap to her shoulder. 

“What? He’s handsome, why wouldn’t he have had sex yet, Gwen.”

“It’s none of our concern Morgs, and besides, maybe he’s saving himself for someone special.” 

Merlin finally looks up, having listened to enough talk about his love life without giving any input on the matter. “No one’s ever been interested in me, especially with all the _I’ll-beat-you-up-if-you’re-gay_ that was going on at my old school… I was too afraid to start anything anyway.”

“Oh, then all of the boy’s at your old school were idiotic, because they missed a chance with the sweetest, most fit, boy out there.” Merlin blushes with a smile.

“Thank you Morgs.”

“Why don’t you date someone at school, no one’s going to bother you there.”

With an eyebrow raised he responds, “I think you forget that I am currently bruised from someone bothering me at school.” A placating smile fits to his face, realising that what he said might have sounded rude, “Thanks for the concern Morgs, really, but I can’t.” 

“You could keep it secret.” Gwen suggests, biting her lip, “Come on Merlin, you deserve to be happy.” 

“Secrets get out, eventually.” Merlin pouts, because he really wishes he could, but he’s too afraid to try. “I’ll just wait I suppose.” 

“For what?” 

“Uni.”

“But Merlin, that’s  almost two years away.” 

He chuckles, the sound lacking anything close to resembling happiness, “Yeah, I know.”

The girls look at each other sadly, as Merlin rests his head on his hand, arm bent at the elbow. His other hand tracing patterns into the tabletop. Milky white finger tips contrasting with the dark grain of the wood. 

His life had always been a contrast - what he wanted, compared to what he received in return.

A shadow falls over him. Merlin glances up, not lifting his head, to see the same boy from earlier, green eyes nervous and sparkling beneath his blond fringe. This close Merlin can tell that he has freckles spattering his face, bunching on his upper cheeks and nose, like seeds on a flower. 

“You’re too pretty to look so sad.”

 

▪       ▪        ▪

 

Merlin follows Gwen and Morgana up the steps of the drive, carrying a few of Morgs bags so she can unlock the front door. Merlin, for the second time this week, is awestruck at the sheer size of the house, with practically only her and Arthur living there. It was incredible, and yet so sad. 

The blast of warmth that surges on them as Morgana opens the door batters the feeling of the crisp, autumn air. Merlin smiles as he walks in, kicking his sneakers off on the mat by the door. Even the polished wooden floor beneath his feet feels warm, it’s surface shining, glowing faintly. 

Morgana takes her bags and dances up the stairs, sing-songing as she ascends, “Leon!” 

Moments later he comes traipsing out from the way of the den, eyes searching. Merlin points towards the stairs. With a smirk, Leon climbs them two at a time. The sound of a door closing drifts down the steps to him and Gwen; Merlin rolls his eyes. 

Gwen leads him to the den. They stop at the loo on the way, where Merlin washes his face of the concealer makeup as Gwen watches, talking excitedly, something or other about Lance and his perfect, gentlemanly nobleness. Lance is, in all honesty, the most perfect being. He not only stands up for what is right, but is incredibly nice, and loyal, without fault really. Merlin is glad that Lance is one of his closest friends. 

Merlin smiles at Gwen’s besotted look, knowing first-hand that Lance wears the same expression when speaking of her. Quite literally the perfect couple. The two of them sickeningly sweet. 

They finally reach the den, walking into the sound of a rerun of last week's footie match playing on the tellie. Arthur is sprawled on one couch, legs splayed wide with his arms resting on the top of the cushions. Gwaine and Percival are crammed into the plush love seat, sides melded, both sporting slight blushes while looking fairly pleased. Gwen runs in to lay claim to the overlarge chair throwing herself upon it with little finesse. Knowing better than to sit at the sofa that Morgana and Leon always occupy on movie nights, Merlin walks to where Arthur is sitting.

“Oi! Look who it is, ol’ blue eyes himself!” 

Merlin starts to shrug out of his jacket, smiling at his friend, “Hey Gwaine.” 

“How was shopping with the _ladies_?” 

A smirk graces Gwaine’s face, “Uneventful, I’m afraid.”

Finally tugging his arms from the sleeves, Merlin tosses his jacket on the back of the couch.

Before Merlin can react, Arthur picks up the little slip of paper that falls from the pocket onto the sofa cushion. He looks at the slip curiously, “Get a pretty girl’s number Merlin?” He asks, lip quirking along with his eyebrow. 

Merlin blushes. _Do I tell them?_  

“Good on you mate!” Gwaine laughs out, fists pumping into the air with pride. 

“It’s not actually.” Merlin continues before Arthur can let the question pass his lips, “Not actually an...erm, pretty girl. Not a girl at all really. Erm. It was a boy, at the Starbuck’s in the shops. Yeah,” Merlin smiles. He’d done it, he’d let them know he was gay, well, sort of, in a roundabout way. “Slid it on the table on his way out.” 

Gwen looks at him proudly from her perch. 

“You’re gay?” Arthur breathes out softly. Merlin nods at him, a half smile ghosting his face. Somehow, it feels freeing having them know. A piece of himself finally at ease after hiding it for so long.

“Was he fit?” Gwaine calls from the loveseat.

“He was.” Merlin replies blushing.

“You gonna call him?” Percy asks. 

“No.” 

“What! Why not?” 

“Because people can’t know Gwaine.”

“Why _not_?”

"You know why. I’m pretty sure we all know why. I’d be a walking target.” Merlin tries to joke, pointing at his face where his bruises plainly show now that he’s washed the concealer away, “More so than I already am.” 

Arthur nudges him, “But you’ve got protection now, remember.” 

Merlin chuckles, “Yeah, well, I’d rather that secret stay kept for a bit longer.” 

They all nod their heads, a silent promise to obey Merlin’s wishes, even Arthur, who knows a bit more than the rest about being gay and keeping quiet. “Thanks lads.” 

All focus goes back to the match playing on the screen, when Merlin feels another nudge at his leg. He looks up to Arthur, who is avoiding eye contact with a blush, staring at the tellie, but whispers in support, maybe trying to create something in common between the two of them, “I’m gay too.” 

Merlin nudges him back and smiles, understanding the gesture for what it is. 

Maybe Arthur isn’t that horrible afterall.

 

▪       ▪        ▪

 

“Mum, it’s getting late, and I was wondering if it’s alright if I just stay at Morgana and Arthur’s tonight? I’ll come back early, I promise, it’s just, we have a few more movies we want to watch and no one wants to get up and leave...so I don’t have a ride. I’m sorry, but is it fine if I do?”

Merlin hears his mum breathing through the speaker, chuckling under her breath, “Of course honey, as long as you want to. Are you sure that you’re comfortable staying at Arthur’s house, since he used to bully you?”

His eyes stray through the doorway into the den, where all of his friends are laughing as Gwaine tries to throw popped corn into Percival’s mouth, with little success. Arthur is in the same spot as before, blanket wrapped around himself as he clutches to a cuppa, smiling warmly at everyone. He glances at Merlin in the hall, and gives a small smile along with a nod, his eyes sparkling. From here, Merlin can see the kind person that Arthur really is, behind the bully facade. “Yeah, he’s been great. Mum, it’s as if he’s a whole entire new person now, it’s incredible. The girls said that he was usually kind, but I didn’t believe them since he’s always been a prat to me, but now I get it.”

A few beats of static reach his ears. “It’s sounds like you’re starting to like him.” 

“We have a mutual respect for each other now, I think.” Merlin bites his lip, “Mum, they know… about me being gay. They found out today, and everyone is fine with it.” 

“Well of course they are, my boy, they love you and are your friends. How did they find out - it’s alright if you don’t want to tell me though.” Merlin moves away from the doorway, heading down the hall to the kitchen. 

He hops onto the counter gingerly before replying, “Well… at Starbucks a boy and I caught each others eye.. And erm, he winked at me and smiled” His mum ‘awws’ through the phone and Merlin blushes in the  empty room as he continues the story, “Of course, being me, I turned into a tomato, and looked away. Morgana must have seen my smile or our interaction or something, because she blurted it out. 

“Mum, I panicked. My heart started beating so fast, and I couldn’t breath. All I could think about was the old school and everything happening again at Avalon. I was so afraid, but Morgs and Gwen calmed me down and helped me stop crying.”

Merlin breaths for a second. “My boy, you had a panic attack. Are you sure you don’t want to come home. I’ll make you tea, and you can rest, if you’d like. I’ll come pick you up if you want, or need me to.” His mum sounds worried, but he reassures her, makes sure she knows he’s fine, and having fun. She calms after his reassurance, but makes sure to state that the offer still stands. Merlin only chuckles and continues his story. 

“The boy, from earlier, came over and complimented me and gave me his mobile number Mum! That’s how everyone else found out, actually, the slip of paper it was on fell from my pocket and Arthur got to it before I could, so I told them. I told them!” 

“And he didn’t react badly?” 

“Well no… The thing is, he’s gay too. He told me himself. Arthur tries to keep it a secret as well, so we’re in the boat together Mum. The gang keeps his secret, and they’ll keep mine too, until I want people to know, although they want me to have fun and be free to date someone, but I can’t do that.” 

“My dear boy, if you fancy someone, date them. I’ll defend you, and kick anyone’s arse that tries to mess with you.” 

“Thanks Mum… You know, you’re not the only one who’s said that today, everyone has actually. It’s like I’ve a posse to protect me."

“Well I’m glad. Now you go have fun with your friends, and don’t worry about being home early tomorrow, just go out and be happy and have fun. I love you Merlin. Be _safe._ ” Merlin swears he hears him mum utter something or other under her breath, but ignores it. “Sweet dreams love.” 

“Sweet dreams Mum, love you.” 

The phone clicks off as Merlin pulls it away from his ear with a smile. He feels as if he is soaring, the burden of hiding from his friends finally gone. 

“So,” Merlin jumps at the voice behind him, “can you stay, or do you need a ride home, because I’ll take you if you need it.” 

Arthur walks to the sink with his, now empty tea mug, filling it with water and setting it down on the stainless before turning around. The blanket is still wrapped around his shoulders, and he snuggles it closer by crossing his arms over his chest. An amused, expectant look graces his features, “well?” 

“No, no, I’m fine to stay, thanks - how long were you there?”

Arthur shrugs, woolen blanket rising to his ears, “not long.”

They stare at each other for a few, long, silent, moments. Studying. “You know…” Merlin starts, “that’s one thing that you never teased me about.” Arthur raises a brow, a confused pout adorning his face. “You never mocked me about my sexuality.” 

“It’s not something to mock about. How could I make fun of someone about something that I was as well? I’d be a hypocrite if I mocked someone for being gay.” Arthur stares down at his feet, “I’d never want to be hurt for who I am, so I couldn’t do it to someone else, never about being gay anyway. I was a giant big bag of dicks, as you’ve said, about making fun of the other stuff though. I really wish I hadn’t.” He locks eyes with Merlin, ‘sorry’ written all over his face. 

“Yeah, it’s not the best feeling in the world.” He says as he shimmies off the counter. He grabs a cold water bottle from the fridge, then turns back to Arthur. Smiling, he says to the slightly pouting blond boy, “come on, there’s fun to be had Arthur.” 

Arthur smiles back at him, and together they walk back to the den, where Lance is curled up next to Gwen choosing the next film, and Morgana and Leon are snogging, ignoring everyone else. Merlin thinks he spies Gwaine and Percival holding hands on the loveseat, but he can’t be sure in the dark. 

Merlin sits first, pulling his legs to the side of him on the couch, opposite of where he leans against the armrest. Arthur throws an extra blanket over Merlin, before mirroring his position on the opposite side of the couch, his own wool blanket still curled around him.

In the middle of the couch, their feet touch to form one spot of warm contact. 

Neither pull away. 

▪       ▪        ▪

 

Arthur’s eyes blink open slowly, the urge to pee strong as he comes to. He looks around the dark room noting everyone sleeping in their various positions. Merlin is asleep at the opposite end of the couch as him, his legs tangled up with Arthur’s own under their combined blankets. He thinks it odd that he isn’t uncomfortable lying next to Merlin, practically cuddling, even though they’ve been on speaking terms for the smaller part of a week. It astounds him how quickly Merlin has forgiven him, and started treating him like a friend, even if he does put Arthur in his place every once in awhile. Arthur had treated him horribly, but it seems that Merlin has turned a new leaf and begun anew. Arthur admires it, the strength to move on after troubles, it’s refreshing, the kindness Merlin has, to give him another try. Arthur plans on not breaking the trust Merlin is granting him, or hurting him again in any manner. 

Their friends would probably kill him otherwise. He has no desire to bully Merlin anymore anyway.

Arthur wonders why he even started to in the first place…

The thought follows him as he rises from the couch, trying not to disturb Merlin where he sleeps, arm thrown over his eyes, faint blue light from the tellie casting shadows on his face. Arthur walks quietly past Percival and Gwaine, both snoring on the floor, not exactly touching, but with faces turned towards each other, sharing hot breath. Arthur smiles fondly down at the two, wondering if they’ll ever make it official.

He stumbles down the hallway in sock clad feet, seeing nothing but inky blackness. He fumbles around on the wall, searching for the light switch to the loo, squinting as the bright light replaces the dark. He yawns as he relieves himself, hand scrubbing his face before he pulls up his jogger bottoms. He yawns again as he washes his hands, the sound incredibly loud in the quiet of the night. His reflection stares back at him, dark circles under eyes, light hair in disarray, t-shirt rumpled from sleep.

He flips the switch and opens the door, rubbing his tired eyes as he exits the loo, only to  bump into something warm and solid. 

“Fuck, Morgs, you scared me half to death.”

His sister smiles up at him in her fluffy, duck covered pajamas. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, but it was a bit funny seeing you jump like that.” 

“Ha bloody ha.” The two just stand there for a moment, not moving. “Don’t you have to use the loo?” 

“What? Oh..yeah. I heard you get up and wanted to talk to you as well.” 

“Okay...Did I wake you?” Morgana shakes her head in answer. “Alright then, what is it?”

“Nothing much...you just seem to be getting awfully cozy with Merlin is all.

“What the hell, Morgana, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh don’t go getting your panties in a twist Arthur,” she says smirking, “Merlin’s cute... I approve.” 

Arthur shakes his head of the sleep threatening it, “I’m too tired for this Morgs, I’m not understanding what you’re meaning.” 

Morgana flicks her hair from her shoulder, eyes rolling as she walks past him into the loo, “You’re such a dolt...well, you’ll figure it out eventually, you emotionally constipated boy.” The door closes behind her and Arthur is left in darkness. He walks back to the den slowly, trying to wrap his mind around the meaning of Morgana’s words. He can’t cypher anything by it, so he decides to go back to sleep, lying opposite of a sleeping Merlin, who is clad in a pair of Arthur’s own jogger bottoms instead of the incredibly tight jeans he had been wearing before. 

A low whine escapes Merlin’s mouth as he shifts, and Arthur begins to wonder if he should just let Merlin have the couch and go up to his own room, or take a spot on the floor... He throws the idea when Merlin settles with a knee bent over both of his legs, warm leg pinning him to the sofa. Sharing with Merlin it is then. He still can’t find the energy to mind.

 

▪       ▪        ▪

 


	8. Coffee, Mate?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana has suspicions. Arthur has a boner, and everyone has tea (or coffee).

Morgana sits contemplating the past months, pondering Arthur’s treatment towards Merlin, in the beginning, and recently. She’s surprised the thought didn’t come to her sooner, surprised it took her so long to realize the extent of Arthur’s emotional constipation. _Arthur fancies Merlin_. It’s the only explanation she could think of. Why else would he have been so rude in the beginning, with no reason whatsoever? All throughout his life Arthur had always pulled the metaphorical pigtails of all of his crushes, and since it was Arthur, that pulling could be quite hard — _the brute_.

In grade school Arthur had kissed a boy behind the schoolhouse, before promptly punching him in the nose and running away. That had been Arthur’s first crush, and his approaches towards love and romance hadn’t changed since, it appeared, though he had never physically harmed Merlin, or else he would have had a lot of people after him, Morgana herself leading them.

Morgana looked at the rest of the group in the kitchen, seeing their smiling faces in the early morning light. “I was thinking…” she begins slowly, addressing the room at large.

“Oh no,” Gwaine replies, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Percival chuckles at him, smacking him on the arm before turning to Morgana. Gwen and Lance face Morgana, looking curious as to her words.

“I was just thinking of why Arthur would be so mean to Merlin in the first place — “

“That’s easy,” Gwaine interrupts, “He’s a bully.”

“But that’s not it.” Morgana argues. “I’m surprised it took me so long to come up with it, but it’s the only explanation for all the facts.”

“And what’s that?” Gwen asks, sipping from her mug. Lance leans against the counter with her, twiddling a spring of her hair between his fingers mindlessly. He darts in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, causing a blush on her caramel skin to match his own.

“Arthur fancies Merlin.”

Gwaine coughs, choking on his tea. Percy thumps his back, rubbing it after to calm Gwaine, small smile on his features. “Princess fancying Merlin,” Gwaine weaves, “I highly doubt that. He was a dick to him... _for months!”_

“No wait,” Gwen responds, “I could get behind that. Didn’t Arthur bully his first crush in primary?”

Leon laughs, sitting beside Morgana with his head leaning on hers. “He punched him in the face! I remember that. He told me that he wanted to kiss and marry Alfie. Poor kid, doesn’t know how to deal with feelings.”

Gwaine still looks unsure, though his brow is now furrowed in thought. “I think you’re right Morgs,” Percival pipes in, which makes everyone pause. Percy rarely interjects, ever the quiet gentle giant. “Last night when Merlin came in with you,” He starts, nodding towards Gwen, “Arthur was watching him. When Merlin turned to talk with Gwaine, Arthur was staring at his bum, blushing cheeks and everything. He seemed quite… _appreciative_.”

Gwaine snickers, “I bet he was, with Merlin in _those_ skinny jeans.”

“Morgana’s right, Arthur only gets mean when he really fancies someone. Which is odd, shouldn’t he be nicer? How does he expect anyone to return feelings when he’s being so rude?”

Morgana nods her head, “Lance, my friend, not everyone is a hopeless romantic like you,” she replies, “it’s called emotional constipation.”

Gwen smiles brightly, “But he’s been so nice to Merlin recently, maybe he’s ready to show him how he feels.”

“I doubt princess even knows himself.”

Morgana agrees, “He has always been a little slow on the uptake.”

“Do you think Merlin would ever date him?” Gwen asks softly. “Arthur was so mean for so long already. I’d be distrusting of Arthur’s motives if I were in Merlin’s position.”

“He’s already forgiven Arthur,” Lance supplies, “Merlin’s moved past it. Always easy to forgive and forget and all that. I mean, they slept on the same couch for Christ’s sake.”

“Merlin’s quite the oblivious little thing though, I doubt he’d even realize. Too innocent that one,” Gwaine adds. “If Arthur is trying to show his feelings by being nice to him, Merlin is probably only thinking that he’s being a friend, _finally_.”

Silence reigns in the room, each of its occupants deep in thought. “Arthur doesn’t realize yet either,” Morgana states, breaking the silence of muted breaths and sips of tea, “I mentioned it, kind of, when I passed him going to the loo last night. He looked clueless.”

“Arthur is clueless.” Gwaine interrupts. “And if he hurts Merlin, I’ll kill him.”

Percy throws a disapproving glance towards Gwaine, who only quirks a brow. “Alright fine. I’ll maim him.”

“And we’ll all help!” Morgana laughs. “Our Merlin must be protected.” A ruffling noise comes from the den area, soft footsteps then a door shutting halting the friends talk. “Alright,” Morgana says softly, “If Arthur is going after Merlin, let’s let him. I think they could be really good together, if Arthur isn’t a brute and Merlin is kind enough to get over Arthur’s prattish ways.”

Gwen’s face lights up with excitement, “Why don’t we make them spend time alone together!”

The group nods, contemplating. “Let’s not make anything happen...but we can aid in the process.” Leon pipes up, strawberry hair curling where it falls around his face. “We have to help Merlin, he did get Morgs and I together after all. He deserves something nice.”

Morgana turns to him, small curl to her lips as she looks adoringly up at him. “We can return the favour.”

Lance turns to the kettle, filling it with water at the sink. “Let’s let things run their course. We could be wrong after all.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin wakes with a heavy weight pressing him into the side of the couch, warm against his legs. He rubs his eyes, trying to pull the sleep from their depths. The warm weight shifts, and Merlin realizes that it’s another pair of legs, _tangled with his own_. He glances to the other side of the couch, only to see Arthur’s face serene in sleep. The way the light filters in from the window onto Arthur’s skin makes him glow, hair brilliant in a golden halo. His lips are slightly parted, allowing a glimpse of slightly crooked teeth. The combination of warm weight, the sight of Arthur’s plump, pink lips, and his sleep muddled mind all contribute to a tingling in his thighs. Merlin feels his cock harden, and is grateful that he’s encompassed in a mound of blankets, because he’d be mortified if anyone realized … _especially Arthur_.

He glances guiltily around the room, only to see that it’s empty, save for him and Arthur.

The thought of Arthur finding him with a boner does not make it flag at all, which Merlin finds curious… Actually, it stays quite proud in the quiet of the morning, with only Arthur’s soft snores filling the room. His hands itch to satisfy himself, but he refrains, clenching them into fists. Merlin squeezes his eyes shut, thinking of anything that will make it go away. _Come on Merlin, anything, think of the most disgusting thing you can. You can’t let people see you with a tent in your joggers- Arthur's joggers. Dammit you're fucking thinking about Arthur again_!

Merlin twists slightly on the couch, uncomfortable with how close Arthur's foot is to his ...erm, yeah. _Disgusting thoughts Merlin_!

Valiants face pops into his mind, and like magic, his erection softens. _Well, at least Valiant is good for something_.

Merlin waits a few minutes before prying himself from the warm cocoon that was his and Arthur’s combined body heat, finding it difficult to lift Arthur’s muscular thighs off of his own legs without waking the other boy up. Arthur snorts once as Merlin is laying his foot back down, but otherwise stays quiet, save for one moment when he whimpers, a pout adorning his face. Merlin wonders what could have caused such a reaction.

 

* * *

 

Arthur feels warmth all around him, cocooning him. He smiles, enjoying the heat and pressure. The warmth moves, an image forming in his mind at the occurrence. He’s sitting in his car with Merlin, heat on full blast, battling the chilly air as he drives through the streets of the city. Merlin is babbling on, which makes Arthur smile, though he doesn't know why exactly.

Suddenly the car is parked in front of his house, which is strange, he could have sworn they were driving towards the academy for school. Merlin turns to him then, eyes dark, heated, and places his hand gently where Arthur’s rests on the steering wheel. His face is clear of bruises, pale skin glowing in the light of the car.

“ _Arthur._ ” He states, the single word sending flame through Arthur’s body. He finds himself reaching out towards Merlin, to feel, to _touch_. Merlin leans into the hand at his cheek, eyes coyly glancing at Arthur before he places a small kiss to the palm of his hand. Arthur’s eyes widen, body reacting to the simple play of affection.

“ _Merlin_ ,” he whispers, voice full of longing. The boy smiles at him, eyes dancing, biting his plump bottom lip, and repeats Arthur’s name into the silence. Arthur blinks slowly. He opens his eyes to find Merlin sitting in his lap, passenger seat empty beside him. He looks up at the boy, noting the cerulean eyes blown wide, and doesn’t question what’s happening, instead cupping Merlin’s face in his hands, and surging up to meet the plump lips, already slightly parted in silent invitation.

Merlin gasps above him, hands moving from Arthur’s chest to his hair, musing it as Merlin grips the back of his head gently. Arthur licks into his mouth, running his tongue along the roof, causing the other boy to groan. Arthur moans into Merlin’s mouth as the man grinds down on him, warm body causing delicious friction. Their hot breaths mix, tongues sharing secrets as they move together, hands roaming through clothing, hips grinding to meet.

He closes his eyes as Merlin bends his head to suck at his neck, loud moan filling the car as a sweet spot is found. He arches with a gasp, eyes flying open when Merlin sucks just below his jaw, only to find that they are somewhere new. No longer are the fog covered windows of the car surrounding the couple, but the walls of Arthur’s bedroom, the soft comforter providing cushion below them. “Was that good?” Merlin asks, eyebrows furrowed, far too innocent for his own good.

“Yes. Yes, that was perfect Merlin,” he responds, making the other boy beam. Merlin ducks back in, sucking and licking to leave a dark mark at the sensitive spot. “ _Oh God_.” He bucks, meeting Merlin’s hips halfway as they grind downwards into him. “ _Holy fuck_.” Merlin’s long fingers trail down his body, leaving sparks in their wake. Arthur feels as if he’s floating, about to explode with how much emotion is pent up inside. “ _Merlin_.”

Merlin chuckles as Arthur trails his fingers to his hips, holding them steady as he rocks up into them. “You’re so beautiful Merlin — _oh God_ — absolutely bloody gorgeous.”

Merlin lifts his head, eyes quizzical as they look at him. “Really?” He asks genuinely.

“Of course.”

“You’ve never told me that.” Merlin pouts, looking hurt, “You’ve always insulted me and called me mean names, and …”

“I was lying!” Arthur cuts in, “Merlin, you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. You’re brilliant and bloody fucking fit!” Merlin searches his eyes, before a smile splits his face. Arthur’s breath leaves him at the sight. Merlin leans back down, placing soft kisses along Arthur’s neck, then trialing them down his naked chest.

_Naked... When did we undress?_

The thought leaves as quickly as it had come as Arthur enjoys Merlin’s ministrations. He himself has them both in hand, pumping their cocks languidly as he enjoys what Merlin’s tongue is doing.

Finally he can take it no more. Precome is leaking from both of their tips, and Arthur can’t stand the slow pace for even a second more. He flips them over gently, seeing Merlin smile beneath him at the change. “Why hello,” the brunette intones, smirk adorning his features. Arthur matched his smile, before surging forwards and crushing their lips together in a passionate lock, tongue thrusting as his hand gains momentum pumping them together.

Merlin is gasping beneath him, his nails scratching at Arthur’s back and running wildly over his body and through his hair. Arthur feels his release building, his momentum thrown. Merlin brings his hand to meet his, interlocking their fingers to work them both together. At Merlin’s touch, Arthur comes undone, a brilliance of white light flashing before his eyes, as ropes of white, paint Merlin’s stomach.

Arthur surges up, eyes wrenching open. The sun is streaming in from the window warming his face, or maybe that’s just his blush. He whips his head around, praying no one is in the room. It’s empty, the other half of the couch cold, a Merlin sized dent in the cushions. _Merlin_. _A dream, it had only been a dream_. Arthur’s face flushes even farther as he remembers his dream Merlin, warm body and _oh god. What was wrong with him? They’d barely just become friends and already he’s thinking of having sex with Merlin._

Images of Merlin thrashing under him fill his mind, the high cheekbones flushed, lips bruised red, glistening. It’s only then that he notices his dick hard under the covers, sticky against his hip, briefs uncomfortable where they stick to his skin. _Oh fuck_.

Arthur lays there for a few moments, reflecting on his dream, and the _aftermath_ of said dream… well, it was understandable. Merlin is fit, and looked absolutely delectable in those jeans last night, so dreams of such a _nature_ were understandable. _Right? He's only human, a teenage boy. It's expected. Right_? He's not sure. It's never happened quite like that before, and he's never cum because of a _only_ dream before.

_Better get cleaned up_. Arthur throws the covers off, swiftly exiting the den, hearing the voices of his friends coming from the kitchen. He hurries his walking, hoping no one will have heard him and come looking for him. Arthur all but sprints up the stairs and down the hall to his room, drying cum chafing against his skin. His cheeks stain, ears heating up, scared someone will see him and _know_. Arthur hefts a sigh when he enters his room, throwing the door closed and leaning against it, taking in quick breaths.

All of this because of Merlin. A dream of _Merlin_. What the hell was that? He didn't fancy Merlin. It was just a dream. _Just a dream, doesn't mean anything you idiot_. Surprisingly, even the voice in his head sounds like Merlin. Arthur shakes his head, taking a steadying breath, before calmly walking to his dresser to pull out a clean pair of boxer briefs, and beginning to dress.

_No more of that_.

 

* * *

 

After running to the loo to relieve himself, Merlin heads in search of his friends, only to find the lot of them lounging in the kitchen. Gwaine is sitting on the countertop island, crossed-legged, a mug in his hands. Percival is at his side, whispering something softly into his ear, to which Gwaine chuckles, glancing at Percy with open adoration while the other boy blushes.

Leon lounges with Morgana at the large, oaken table, the latter of which is staring at Merlin with an indecipherable look in her eyes. Merlin fidgets under the attention, which causes Gwen to register his presence. “Merlin!” She exclaims, face lighting up as she rubs circles into Lancelot’s back. Lance turns from setting the kettle on the cooktop, an easy smile on his face, “How are you feeling?”

Merlin looks away from Morgana, confused by her stare, before replying, “I’m alright Gwen. My ribs have gone a bit sore, though, it’s always worse when I first get up.”

“You don’t need anything then?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks dear.”

Gwen smiles at him before joining Leon and Morgana at the table. Merlin walks to where Gwaine and Percy are, leaning against the counter with arms crossed casually, mirroring Percival on Gwaine’s other side. Gwaine ruffles Merlin’s hair, smile radiating from his face, “Mate, you look shagged out,” Merlin blushes, looking down, “What have you and Arthur been doing in there?”

Merlin sputters, mouth floundering much like a fish would. “Gwaine!” The boy in question laughs, long chocolate locks bouncing with the motion. “Nothing happened! Goodness, we’ve just barely become friends. Kind of.” Merlin looks awkwardly around, _are Arthur and I friends_? He’d like to think that they were, now. They’d talked quite a bit of their issues out. Well...Arthur had apologised loads.

Thoughts of him and Arthur flood into his mind at Gwaine’s insinuation, his little _situation_ he’d had this morning coming to mind. The boner hadn’t left with thoughts of Arthur. Well, why would it? He’d wanked at the thought of Arthur before… an imaginary Arthur that was actually nice to him, and liked him, but Arthur nonetheless.

Arthur was still incredibly fit, with the blond shining hair and peachy bum, no matter how much Merlin wanted to deny it. _Stop, you’ll get another boner_!

He looks guiltily at his friends, whom are silent as they sip their tea and enjoy the autumn morning sunlight filtering through the large kitchen windows. “You two are friends Merlin,” Gwen responds with a smile, “There’s nothing to worry about there.”

He smiles slightly in return, before yawning against the back of his hand. “Merlin,” Lance asks, turning from the cooktop as the kettle screams, “Would you like a cuppa?”

“No he would not!” Merlin starts at the voice, turning to see Arthur standing fully-clothed in the doorway, blond hair styled, looking nonplussed, and fucking _gorgeous_. Gwen looks disappointedly at Arthur, questioning tilt to her eyebrows.

“And why not prat?” Merlin had thought that they were sort of friends now. _What was Arthur playing at_?

“Because, _Mer_ lin, we’re going to the cafe for brekkie!” Arthur smiles at him, Merlin can’t help but return the gesture. _So friends after all_? Gwen sighs in relief, sending a glance towards Morgana, who stares back at her best friend with quirked eyebrow. “That is...if you want to? I mean, you probably have to get home don’t you?”

Merlin chuckles, “No, Mum said I could spend the day with you lot.”

“Great!” Arthur states, glancing around the room, “And what about you lot, you joining us? I’m buying.”

“Well in that case,” Gwaine starts, only to be cut off by a glare from Morgana and a pinch to the ribs from Percy.

“We already ate.” Percival rushes. Merlin thinks that they are acting oddly, but doesn’t comment.

“All of you?” Arthur asks, lips pouting slightly. The group nods in unison. “I was hoping to have a friends brunch.”

“All of us, except Merlin!” Morgana corrects, “He just got up as well. It seems you’re both lazy sods.”

Arthur squints his eyes at her, “okay,” he drawls out. “Merlin, I guess you’ll just have to order twice as much to make up for it.” Merlin opens his mouth to protest, “And before you say anything, yes I can afford it, so you’re getting loads of food.” Merlin’s mouth snaps shut, lip quirking slightly.

“Well fine, _sire_.”

Gwaine laughs, ruffling Merlin’s hair once again. He laughs along with his friend, blushing slightly at the attention. “Paws off, you git.” Gwaine pushes his shoulder slightly, Merlin trying to swat at his hands as he does so.

“You know you love it Merls.” His only response is an eyeroll, smile pulling from his lips.

“You ready Merlin,” Arthur interrupts the interaction, strange look on his face, “I’m _starved_.”

“Yeah, I just need to change back into my skinnies, then we can leave.” Merlin pushes off the counter, not noticing the blush rising on Arthur’s features, or the smirk Gwaine is sending towards the rest of the teenagers at the table. He lifts his eyebrows, glancing pointedly at Arthur, before looking at them once more, a gleam in his caramel eyes.

Percival and Gwaine join the rest of the group around the table as Merlin leaves the kitchen, huddling together conspiratorially, whispering about the pair. Arthur doesn’t seem to notice, staring into space as he is; he looks lost in thought, eyes glazed over with small smile gracing his lips. The group watches him in silence, noting the faint blush on his cheeks. His brows furrow, lips pouting out as he shakes the thoughts from his mind. Looking inconspicuous, the group begins talking softly, trying not to look at the way Arthur glances guiltily around, face masked.

Arthur clears his throat, before walking to where the group sits. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? It will be fun! And the food’s quite good.”

“Morgana and I have a project we need to work on, sorry Arthur,” Gwen intones, chocolate eyes sparkling up at him. Arthur moves his gaze to Gwaine and Percival, skipping over Lance and Leon, since he knows they’ll be staying with Gwen and Morgs, the lovesick sods. He quirks his eyebrows at the pair.

“Sorry mate,” Gwaine starts, “Perce promised me a film today, so we’re heading out to go see the earliest showing. Next time though!”

Lips downturned, Arthur nods his head. “You lot want me to bring anything back?”

The group looks to each other, shaking their heads in unison. “Thanks though,” Lance says sweetly, lips open in a smile over sparkling teeth.

“Arthur,” Merlin stumbles into the room, skinny jean clad, long legs accentuated by the material. “You ready to go?”

Arthur nods his head, lips quirking up at Merlin. His eyes quickly roam the other boys body, trying not to be caught. He walks towards the doorway where Merlin stands, throwing a ‘ _see you later_ ’ over his shoulder.

Merlin grins at his friends, bruised face open and happy. “G’bye lads,” he waves, then quirking an eyebrow, “... _ladies_.”

He turns, exiting the room to a chorus of _goodbyes_ , _see you Mondays_ and _later_ , following him and Arthur down the hall. They hurry with their coats and trainers, before bustling out into the chilly autumn morning, colorful leaves raining down on them as they stroll to Arthur’s car.

 

* * *

 

The smell of ground coffee fills his lungs as Arthur holds the door for him, ushering him inside with a flourish of his hand. The scent of coffee is strong, fresh, as he walks to the counter, Arthur on his heels. Merlin can see the baristas pulling levers and turning handles, coffee pouring from the spouts. He lets Arthur pass him as they approach the counter, standing just behind him on his left. The girl behind the counter smiles at the blond, who doesn't notice as he looks up at the chalk drawn menu. "What can I get for you sir?"

Arthur ponders over the choices, eyes flicking between two boards, before he states, "I'll have a large caramel macchiato. Oh, and an extra shot of espresso to that."

"Will that be hot, or iced?"

"Hot please."

The woman taps the order into the board, before looking up once more. "Anything else?"

Arthur looks back at the menu, before ordering once more, "A breakfast croissant and the bowl of fruit salad." Arthur looks to the display counter, biscuits and cakes up for view, before glancing towards Merlin, "add a couple of scones as well."

The girl nods, fingers adding the items to the order. "Anything else?"

Arthur turns to him, "Merlin?" He asks, placing a hand to Merlin's shoulder, slight smile on his lips.

Merlin glances to the board, "Erm. I'll have a large mocha and a breakfast croissant as well. Thank you." Merlin glances towards Arthur, noting his raised eyebrow.

"Get more Merlin, come on, that won't be enough." Arthur urges him. "You need to eat up, it'll make you grow up big and strong," Arthur jokes, smirk on his face. The woman behind the counter looks between the two, smiling at the interaction.

Merlin rolls his eyes, shaking his head at Arthur. "Fine," he relents, "I'll have the fruit bowl as well." He looks back to Arthur, an are-you-happy-now look on his face.

Arthur pays the barista, before following Merlin to a booth in the back. They sit across from each other, waiting for the food and coffee to be done and their names called. "Thank you Arthur."

The boy in question raises his head, small smile gracing his lips. "You're welcome! Anything for a ... _friend_."

Merlin's brows scrunch at the statement. "Is that what we are?" He asks earnestly, needing to know the answer, not wanting the Arthur of old to return. Not wanting this to be some cruel joke played on him. He wouldn't be able to stand the Bully Arthur now that he's seen the nice one.

Arthur's lips part, a mildly hurt look on his face, "Well, I had hoped so. I mean, I thought we were, or getting there at least. Do you not think so? Or want to be?"

"Oh no, I do! I do Arthur!" Merlin reassures, "I just wanted to make sure. I _want_ to be friends. Of course I do; I don't want the prat Arthur back, after all."

Arthur's lip curls sadly, "I really am sorry about everything I did." Arthur bites the corner of his lip, "thank you...for forgiving me. For even wanting to try and be friends after what I said."

Merlin stares at the honesty pouring from Arthur, knowing how hard it must be for the other boy to talk so openly about what had happened. "Arthur, it's alright, I've already forgiven you."

"No, it's not alright. I was an arse, and I feel terrible about that." Arthur looks into his eyes, stormy, looking so upset, anguish mixed within sparkling blue. "I understand if you want to wait to become friends, Merlin, I do. I need to gain your trust first -"

"Arthur. Stop." The blond closes his mouth, pleading eyes and questioning brow showing plain confusion. "Arthur. We are friends, alright? You helped me, you apologised, and you made up for it with coffee," Merlin jokes, trying to lighten the mood, "I've forgiven you, remember? Get it through your thick skull, prat. I am your _friend_ now, _if_ you want me to be."

A small smile pulls at Arthur's lips, stretching slowly until his teeth show, "are you sure?"

Merlin nods, "though, you have to promise not to return to being a giant arse to me. My fragile heart can't take another 180 from you." Arthur swears he won't, _ever_. "Then yes, I'm sure," adding with a smirk,"I don't let just anyone buy me coffee and breakfast after all."

They both chuckle at that, something pleasant and warm settling between them. Silence falls, the steady hum of coffee makers and thrum of ovens the only sound as they enjoy the warmth of the cafe, and sunlight of the morning. Merlin jumps when Arthur calls to him softly, "Food's ready Merlin." He hadn't heard their names called, too busy contemplating the golden quality of the morning, and the peace he felt here... _with Arthur_.

_My friend_. Merlin smiles at the thought.

They both saunter towards the counter where there food awaits, steaming, soft tendrils curling towards the roof, caressing the invisible dust bunnies in the air. Merlin's mouth waters at the scent of melted cheese and warm croissant, not realising how hungry he had been before this moment. Arthur smiles eagerly at the food, grabbing his portion up and waiting for Merlin to do the same, before he leads them both back to the secluded booth.

"Is it just me," Arthur starts, casually popping a grape from his fruit bowl into his mouth, "Or was everyone acting strangely this morning?"

Merlin nods, eyes growing wide, "You noticed it too! They were so odd."

"It's like they're _up to something_."

Merlin nods again, eyes squinting as he contemplates, "I wonder what though..."

The two let silence fall as they try to figure what the group was on about, each taking small bites of food, chewing slowly in thought. Merlin starts, "you know," he says, "it only began when we were both in the room!"

"Why would that have anything to do with it _Mer_ lin?" Arthur asks defensively, brows furrowed.

"I don't know Arthur," Merlin replies, confused by Arthur's reaction, "I'm trying to fit the pieces together just like you."

"Right," Arthur supplies, looking chagrined, "Sorry." Merlin nods, and they go back to thinking in silence.

  
Conversation picks up after a few moments, moving on to another topic as the bustle of the coffee shop plays in the background. The soft, ambient music plays over the speakers, lyrics pulling and pushing over the melody. It warms Merlin's heart.

Merlin finishes his croissant, taking his mug in both hands to slowly bring it to his mouth, letting the warmth seep into his bones with each sip. The soft tendrils of coffee scented steam make him smile; he looks up to share the moment with Arthur, who's looking at him with an odd sort of expression: confusion mixed with mild pleasure and something else that Merlin can't name.

“What?” Merlin asks, perplexed at Arthur's stare.  
For a split moment, Merlin thinks he sees pain in Arthur's eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it comes.

  
“I think you should talk to that fit guy, maybe go on a date or something,” Merlin is confused by the sudden change in conversation, but before he can protest, Arthur continues, “It doesn't have to amount to anything, if you don't want it to, but I think you should at least go out and have some fun. You deserve to be happy Merlin.”

Merlin’s heart warms at Arthur's words. _He wants me to be happy_. His heart does a little flutter at the intensity at which Arthur is looking at him, eyes so very blue. “I don't know… I've never really done that before.”

“What,” Arthur asks with a smirk, “had fun?”

Merlin chuckles, eyes rolling, “no you prat. I meant go on a date.”

“Never?”

Merlin looks away, chewing the corner of his lip, “ _pathetic_ , I know.”

“Not pathetic. Merlin come on, you're bloody brilliant! Why would you even say that?”

Merlin turns his attention back to Arthur, “Because I’m seventeen and have never been on a date!” Here Merlin goes quite, softly adding, “Never even been _kissed_ , for that matter.”

“That's nothing to be ashamed of,” Arthur stated earnestly, earning a raised eyebrow from Merlin, “No I'm serious, there's nothing wrong with that Merlin, and there's nothing wrong with you. I promise.”

Merlin bites at his lip, “I don't know… I mean, I wouldn't even know what to do on a date!”

Arthur places his hand on top of Merlin’s where it rests against his mug, “Hey. That's alright. I'll help you. Let's order a cuppa to go, then we'll head to the park and I'll help you text him and arrange something. How does that sound?”

Merlin looks into Arthur's eyes, so open to him now. “Why - “

“Why not?”

“Why are you helping me?”

Arthur paused for a moment, before his lips lift slightly as he shakes his head. “Because we're mates. That's what mates do.”

Merlin smiles at Arthur, noting the colour rise on the other boy’s cheeks. “I'll go place those to go orders then. Want the same thing?”

Merlin nods, “thank you Arthur.”

“Don't mention it,” Arthur responds, hand slipping from atop Merlin’s as he slides from the booth, “Oh, and eat that scone, I got it for you,” he adds walking confidently to the counter. Merlin’s curious eyes follow him the whole way.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realised how long it had been since I last updated this fic. I am so sorry. This chappie has been in the works for a long time, and I finally got around to finishing it. Going to college and applying to universities has been taking a lot out of me, but that's an excuse and I don't like that. I do appologize. I want to thank for reading this fic, and as always, for commenting or giving kudos. You have no idea how happy those have made me. Thank you lot. I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully it goes up within the next fortnight. I love all of you lot.


	9. Gilli's Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilli's gone, Val's an arse, and Arthur's really not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a long one, but I figured you deserved it since I made you wait so long. I am so sorry for that. I graduated this year, so this past semester has been insanity, plus I've been having to get everything in order for Uni, so it's been hard. Thanks for reading, and sticking with me, it means a lot. If you like, please leave a kudos, and if not, let me know why? Thanks loves! I hope to have some up sooner this time.

“Sometimes,” Arthur grumbled, bumping shoulders with Merlin in his haste to get inside, nearly running from the car, “I really hate living in England.” Merlin snickered under his breath, umbrella keeping him, and his belongings, dry as he walked to the entrance of the Academy.

Ahead of him cold rain bears down on Arthur, who is running with his school uniform jacket wrapped safely around his bagged breakfast croissant, coffee from their morning cafe stop safely in his other hand.

“You know,” He yells ahead of him, where Arthur is already waiting under the awning, “I would have shared my umbrella with you; just had to ask.” The blond scowls, tossing his wet hair from his face. Merlin ignores him in order to take a sip from the _dry_ lid of his coffee, the liquid warming him against the autumnal storm.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about Merlin,” Arthur calls out, voice just barely discernible above the beating of rain against the pavement. A low roll of thunder pauses his words, the trees swaying as the wind picks up, “I have no need, whatsoever, for an _umbrella_. What gave you that impression?”

Merlin snorts as he gets close, finally able to lower his umbrella as he enters the covered area. “Silly me, I forgot _prats_ don’t get wet.” After pointedly staring at Arthur, who is standing, soaking wet in front of him, both boys crack a smile, laughing as they enter the building, Arthur holding the door for his new friend.

The blast of warmth that greets them as they enter the corridor is heavenly, beside him Arthur groans, relishing in the heat. Pink tinges Merlin’s cheeks at the noise, but he carries on walking towards his first class of the day, Arthur following close behind him. “You know you don't have to pick me up, and bring me to school every day right? Or get me coffee every morning?”

Arthur clears his throat, looking away as he takes a sip of his drink. His cheeks look rouged, but Merlin attributes that to the cold. “I know,” Arthur mumbles, stalking along beside him, then in a soft, genuine voice, adds, “it's the least I can do.”

A soft smile plays on Merlin's lips at the other boy's admission. He bumps Arthur's shoulder softly, feeling heat in his cheeks.

They're early to school, as they have been since Arthur started picking him up a few days before, but even so the halls are exceptionally empty. _Monday morning blues_ Merlin thinks to himself, trying to get the sleep out of his own eyes. “I'm heading off to my free period Merlin, I'll catch up with you in history.”

Merlin nods his goodbye, watching as Arthur turns down the hall, towards a flight of stairs. His steps are quick and confident as he ascends the stairs, and he turns at the last minute to send a small smile Merlin's way. Merlin can't help but returning it.

The rain thrums against the roof, pattering against the window panes as he enters the empty classroom. He takes his usual spot, getting comfortable in the chair before pulling out his biro and note pad, ready for when class begins. Merlin lets himself relax, the lull of the swaying trees outside calming him as he sips from his steaming cup. His ribs smart as he sucks in a large breath, he screws his eyes closed, releasing the breath through his nose until the pain recedes. “ _Fucking Val_ ,” he mutters under his breath.

“I didn’t know he was your type, Merlin,” Gwaine leers from above him, causing Merlin to jump and nearly spill his coffee all over himself. “Sorry mate.” Merlin glares at his friend, who flicks his hair from his eyes, nonplussed.

“Bloody hell Gwaine,” Merlin looks frantically around the room to make sure no one overheard Gwaine’s words, thankfully the room is still empty. “Give a little warning next time,” he adds pouting. His friend chuckles as he splays himself into his desk chair, grinning lasciviously.

Gwaine hums, “ ‘s not really my style Merls.” Merlin rolls his eyes, trying not to grin, which only causes Gwaine to ruffle his, already untamed, hair further. Merlin swats his hands away, waving when he sees Lance enter the room from the corner of his eye.

Lance nears, grinning slightly as he lowers into his seat. He hums softly as thunder rolls overhead, head turning to look out the window with concerned eyes, watching the winds whip the trees as if they were paper dolls, and not the mammoth specimens they are, “It’s going to be a rough one today lads.”

Merlin can't help but agree.

When Val and the mousy lad come in snickering, Merlin gets an odd feeling in his chest. The feeling only worsens when they continue to stare at him throughout the class, eyes glaring, as they snicker and inconspicuously motion to him. _What now_ , he thinks.

 

* * *

 

Rain pelts the hood of the car, creating miniature rivers down the windshield. Val sneers, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket as he waits for Cenred to enter the car. “Where’s the wee one?” He asks around the unlit cig in his mouth. He lights it while he waits for an answer, inhaling the nicotine and smoke. He exhales, glancing at his friend. “Well?”

“Mum’s got him, giving him a talking to about something or other.” Val nods, puffing out another breath of smoke. “Can I bum a fag mate?”

Val nods again, reaching into his pocket for his pack. He tosses it to Cen, who flicks his wet hair from his eyes as he pulls a white cylinder out. Val extends his lighter, waiting for the cigarette to get started before he puts it away. “Thanks mate.”

Just then Cedric enters the car, mousy form hidden by a dark glint in his eye and a wide, snarl of a smile. It’s peculiar, really, how the brothers were so different, one so tall and muscular, attractive even, with a thick head of long hair, while the other was so _small_ , with his rat-like features, and stringy hair. Yet...they were twins. How, is beyond Val’s thinking...as are many things.

“Hey Val!” Val grunts, pushing the car into gear before speeding away from the curb, the tires of his sportscar squealing for a short second. He smirks, loving what money can buy him.

Kanen, who had been sitting quietly up until this point, smoking as he stared at the rain, suddenly turns to him from the passenger seat. “Heard about Gilli,” he states, smiling, “It’s too bad, really.”

Val lets out a bark of laughter, “Yeah, as you all know, our good lad Gilli is leaving the school. Seems we’ve finally cracked the poor sod,” He snickers, Cenred and Kanen joining in. In the back seat, beside his brother, Cedric sits giggling hysterically to himself, earning himself a glare from the other three until he stops. “So now that Gilli’s leaving, we need new meat, officially, and I know just who is gonna be our next topman — _Merlin_ ” he snarls the name, “If he thinks he can just come in here, telling me what I can and cannot do, challengin’ me in my own school — who the hell does he think he is anyway? The bloody fuckin’ Queen!”

Cedric giggles into his hand, the mousy boy’s frame shaking with it, “Queen! Like a nancy boy — or… or a right poofter!”

Val glances into the rearview mirror, a disbelieving smile on his face, “Oh, that’s rich Cedric,” Cenred exclaims, punching the boy in the arm playfully, “He could be a right little bender, a little queer boy.”

Silence follows for a few moments, each of the boys letting the idea play in their minds. The rain continues to pound against the roof of the car, metallic pinging with each droplet.

“That could be beat out of him,” Cedric interjects, breaking the silence, menace and disgust lacing his words.

Val nods his head, turning down the road to the academy, “A proper pounding,” he suggests with a sneer. “He obviously still hasn’t learned his lesson.”

“Oi! What about the group he hangs around with? He’s always with the lot of them,” Kanen argues, his intellect just barely reaching above the others, “We can’t very well do anything with Percy and Leon about, not to mention Arthur! There’s no way we could take them. And,” he adds scrunching his face, “We don't even know that he _is_ a shirt-lifter.”

Val laughs, throwing the car into park. “I’ve no problem with any of them, it’s the little _arsebandit_ that I can’t fucking stand.” He throws his seat belt off, turning fully to his friend, “You honestly think Arthur gives a fuck? He’s practically on our side — “

“What about last week on the pitch?” Cenred interrupts, “He looked like he gave a fuck then.”

The pitch, Val thinks, shaking his head, “No, that was Arthur saving face in front of his sister and Gwen. For some fuckin’ reason they love Merlin. We’ve nothing to worry about from Arthur, have you heard him talk about Merlin? He _hates_ him.” The other boys slowly nod, apprehension in some of their gazes, but determined nonetheless. “Don't worry about his crew, they're not always around.” Here, he pauses, thinking back to Merlin in the stands of the pitch, he curls his lip in disgust, “And as for Merlin being a poofter or not,” Val leans towards the rest of them, “I've seen him watching us all on the pitch. _Ogling_. He has to be.”

“New pet project then, our Merlin?” Kanen questions, flipping up his collar to combat the rain for when he leaves the safety of the car.

“Full treatment boys,” Val flashes a dark smile, “Full treatment.” The other boys nod along with their leader’s statement, ready to unleash their violent tendencies, on Merlin, whenever they feel like it … well, to _amp up_ their bullying really.

 

* * *

 

The rain doesn't cease throughout English, nor history, the sky only darkening outside the window next to Arthur. Merlin is sitting to Arthur’s right, trying to shake the impending feeling of dread from his heart. _What was Val up to?_

Merlin is shaken from his thoughts when he feels a soft nudge on his arm. He looks to his left, brows scrunching together in confusion until Arthur looks pointedly to his desk, motioning for Merlin to look. When he does, he see a small folded piece of paper laying there innocently. Merlin opens the paper, reading the little note written inside; _What's wrong? You seem...anxious?_

Merlin shakes his head, pulling his cap off his pen to write; _Nothing. I'm fine. Why, you worried about me ;P_ Merlin hopes Arthur will be convinced, or at least let it drop. _And in any case_ , he thinks, _nothing was really going on at all anyway_.

Arthur's reply comes quickly, the paper being slipped right next to his left hand resting on his desk. _First off_ , it reads, _shut up. Second, I'm merely mildly intrigued, but so what if I was worrying, we're friends, I can do that now. And third... nice try changing the subject MERlin._ How Arthur managed to put a posh tone into his writing is beyond him, but he can't help a small smile from gracing his lips.

He starts to write a reply, biting on the corner of his lip, as he tries to convey that _there really isn't anything going on_ , with as much cheek as possible, when the paper is suddenly wrenched from his hold. He looks up, wide eyed at professor Aredian, as the glaring man shreds the note to bits before throwing it in the bin, railing on about paying attention in class and trying to make his students cry - Merlin believes it's a hobby of his. He sends a quick glance to Arthur, an eye roll ready at Aredian’s antics. The corners of Arthur’s lips upturn, a small huff of a laugh leaving his mouth as he shakes his head. “Now essay projects in! You had a fortnight, so they best be great!” Aredian yells, eyes staring creepily at the class.

After that, Merlin tries to pay more attention to note taking, but Aredian is dreadfully boring, and mean, so he can just barely manage his concentration. The small pieces of paper Arthur keeps throwing his way aren’t helping either, but everytime he tries to get the blond prat to stop, the most mischievous glint overtakes Arthur’s eyes, an adorable grin on his face. Merlin can’t find the heart to actually halt his actions, it’s not like it’s hurting anyone anyway. Merlin however, can’t stop, the satisfied feeling when he hits Arthur on the bridge of his royal nose with a balled up shred of paper, trying to keep his amusement to himself as the blond’s face displays both indignation and utter amusement. _Being friends wouldn’t be so hard after all._

As class ends and they leave the room, Merlin splits with Arthur, choosing to visit the loo before joining the rest of the group for lunch. Just as he’s finishing up, tucking himself back in and zipping up his trousers, he hears the door close once more, and a low whistle blow out. “My my, what a surprise,” He hears Kanen’s voice from behind his right shoulder, “The lads and I were just talking about you.” Merlin feels a body pressed against his back, a calloused hand gripping hard at the fabric on the nape of his neck. “What a coincidence,” the words are uttered right into his ear, warm breath moist along his skin. Merlin shivers, trying to pull away, but with nowhere to go.

“What’s wrong Merlin, you uncomfortable?”

Merlin rolls his shoulders, trying to displace Val’s dogsbody. “First Val, now you; what is it with oafs wanting to wrinkle my uniform? Get your grubby paws off, feckin’ dimwit.” A growl reaches his ears, Kanen’s breath ghosting against the shell of his ear. Suddenly he’s forced around, and held by the collar of his pristine white shirt.

“Care about your clothes do you, ya little bitch?” Kanen yanks at his shirt, ripping the buttons from their fastenings, falling with little pattering sounds to the floor. Merlin’s heart races, his breath quickening as he tries to process the situation. In front of him, the boy smiles, grin like a grimace, a dark glint in his eyes. He looks at Merlin’s chest, which is still wrapped in bandages thanks to his mother, his grin turning absolutely wicked, “Hurts, does it,” He leers, pounding his fist into the bandaged area of Merlin’s ribs. Merlin’s breath stutters, a choked gasp forcing itself passed his lips as another punch is delivered with enough force to make Merlin heave, though nothing but air comes out.

Vulnerable and utterly alone, Merlin tries to fight the bully off, pushing against the solid mass in front of him as more fists rain down upon his already tortured ribs. He wants to cry, but mostly he just wants it to end, and it does, finally, with a final punch to his stomach, sending him to his knees on the tiled floor. Kanen smirks at him as he tries to steady himself against the tile, not yet daring to stand up lest the bully take it as provocation for another attack. It doesn't help, as the boy in question kicks him onto his back, his shoulder blades smarting as they hit the tile. He gives a terrifying kick to Merlin's ribs, years of footie practice apparent, as Merlin cries out. “Hope you know your place now Nancy-boy” The other boy states, walking to the mirror, to check his reflection, adjusting his tie as he finds Merlin’s eyes in the mirror, before he stalks to the door. “Ta!” He throws over his shoulder as he exits into the hall, teeth flashing.

Tears threaten to spill from Merlin’s eyes, the pain throbbing under his tender skin as he just sits there. _What have I done to deserve any of this? How could they possibly know I’m gay? Or did they even? No_ , he thinks, _they couldn't know, so they were just assuming_. Merlin shakes his head. Wankers, had they nothing better to do?

Slowly, as every movement hurts, Merlin pushes himself up into a standing position, taking deep stuttering breaths that rattle his resolve to not cry, pain exploding with each inhale. _Really wish Mum were here_ , he thinks, walking slowly to the mirror and sinks. His shirt is ruined, all the buttons ripped from their spots and scattered along the floor of the loo. He can spot new bruises blooming on his stomach, crawling into the covered portion of his chest, black and blue even after only a few short minutes.

One looks nasty, like a giant black welt across his pale skin, the imprint of a boot mark ruddy against the flesh of his ribs. _Holy shite_ , he thinks.

Merlin sighs, slowly taking his shirt off and rolling it into a ball, before gingerly stuffing it into his rucksack, maybe he could fix it at home, add a couple buttons — good as new. He’s suddenly glad for his poor circulation, and being permanently cold, because he has a school jumper in his rucksack that he’s able to pull out and throw on, well throw on as slowly and gingerly as his screaming torso permits. _There_ , he thinks, adjusting his school jacket over the jumper, fixing his appearance enough to look presentable, and not like he’s just been mercilessly punched for the last five minutes, _not too bad_. Now all he has to hope for is no one to notice his lack of school shirt, and him favouring his ribs even more than he was before.

_Easy._

* * *

 

He makes it through the queue for food without a hitch, though his stomach revolts at the thought of eating anything, but on the way to the table where his friends already sit eating, Val, upon his passing, trips him, sending his lunch flying over the edge of the tray, hot chicken noodle soup spilling all down his front. Merlin gasps in breaths, trying not to cause a scene, or to descend into panic. He gets up off his knees, smarting from the impact of his fall, with as much dignity as he can muster. He picks up any mess he can as Val, and his ruffians, sit laughing at him. Anger and humiliation burn deep in his gut as he walks to the rubbish bin and discards his ruined meal, before heading to his normal seat, making sure to go the long way so he doesn’t have to pass Val again.

“Merlin,” Gwen asks, eyes wide, “Are you alright?”

All of his friends look on at him with concern, and for a split second he thinks of lying, so that they won’t worry anymore, but thinks better of it. He can’t lie to them. Angry tears fill his eyes, “I...I’ve just really had a rough fu... fucking day.” Before anyone can respond, or so much as react, a crackling comes over the intercom system.

“Merlin Emrys to the Headmaster’s office.”

At the mention of his name Merlin freezes, looking at his friends in question. They look as confused as he feels, so he stands, pulling his rucksack on his back with a whimper that he hopes no one hears, and subtly limps away, holding his arm across his stomach. The boiling soup really hadn’t helped the situation. “I’m sure it’s fine, Merlin,” he hears Gwaine call out, and can’t help but send a small smile back their way, though it drops when he notices that Val and his gang have been ‘ooing’ his summons to the Headmaster’s office. _Clotpoles_.

Apprehension hangs on him heavy like the clouds outside, ready to burst at a moment's notice, as he enters the office behind the secretary. “Bayard,” the office attendant announces, “Merlin Emrys to see you, sir.” Merlin takes a seat at the Headmaster’s request, looking around the room with wide eyes. The nameplate glares at him, _Bayard Barrington - Headmaster_ , in bright white, panic-inducing letters. _Oh god_ , he thinks, _what have I done?_

“Now I’m sure you know why I brought you into my office today, Merlin.” The headmaster stops, looking at him as if for answer.

“I’m sorry Headmaster, I _really_ don't.”

Mr. Barrington looks at him inquisitively, brows scrunching together, mouth downturned. “Well it is a serious matter that has brought you here, actually. A former peer of yours has included your name in a statement of bullying. His description is quite detailed, but we had hoped to hear another statement over the matter for confirmation. The student, however, is no longer with us, feeling it unsafe for himself to continue his education at this school.”

_Gilli_ , he thinks, eyes widening. _Gilli had finally accused Val. Oh fucking hell...good for Gilli, really, but now I’m left here to deal with it. To deal with Val. Alone._

“Sir?”

Headmaster Barrington looks at him with a piercing gaze, brown eyes studying him. “Has Valiant Devlin ever harmed, or threatened to harm you during your time here at the Academy at Avalon?” Merlin freezes, breath stuck in his throat. “Mr. Emrys?” Merlin nods his head, looking down to his hands in his lap.

“Yes,” he whispers, avoiding the Headmaster’s gaze.

“Was there an incident last week in the boys' toilets, that involved you, Gilli, and Val?” The Headmaster’s tone is quiet, imploring but gentle. Merlin nods his head, biting his lip as he glances up. “Can you explain it for me?”

Merlin takes a steadying breath, wondering if he should even go through with this. _What would Val do now? Val is probably going to get in trouble, and come after me because of it. Sod it_ , He thinks, _how much worse could it actually get?_ Merlin makes up his mind, wiping his sweaty palms against his trouser bottoms.

_Better me than some poor unsuspecting lad_.

“Last week after classes had ended, I was on my way out of the Academy — heading to the Library to work on an essay with Arthur Pendragon — when I heard some voices and a scuffle coming from the loos.” Merlin pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. Mr. Barrington doesn’t miss the way he winces as his torso stretches.

“Continue,” he intones softly.

“Erm… well, I was curious, so I went over to the toilets to investigate, and found Val and Gilli inside. He - “

“He, who?” The headmaster interrupts.

“Oh, Gilli, sorry.” Mr. Barrington nods at him to continue, making notes along the way, pen scratching against the paper. “Gilli was up against the wall, black eye and...and split lip, and I told Val to stop.” Merlin stops, shaking his head. His nail digs into his palm painfully. “Told him to pick on someone his own size. I thought he was going to leave, but he just walked to the door and locked it, then rounded on me. _God I'm an idiot_.” He whispers, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“No, you did a good thing Mr. Emrys.”

“ _It sure doesn’t feel like it_ ,” Merlin’s eyes widen, biting his tongue at his sarcastic slip. “I’m so sorry sir.”

The Headmaster chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s quite alright Merlin. Now...how did it end, how long did it go on for?”

Merlin thinks back on the event, eyes screwed up in thought, “It had to have been at least ten minutes. Val kept me up against the wall, pinning me there, hitting my face, and my ribs, until I couldn't keep myself standing.” Merlin’s breath hitches at the admission, “At least I kept him occupied long enough for Gilli to run. I fought back, but Val was just…” He shakes his head, eyes wide. A tear slips down his face, breath starting to quicken as he relives the scene, and so many more like it that he’s gone through.

He hunches his shoulders, swiping quickly at his eyes, and trying to eb the impending panic. “That’s enough Merlin. I’ve gotten all I need. Your story matches Gilli’s. Is there any photo evidence of any injuries that may have occurred?”

Merlin nods his head, “My Mum is a nurse, and she patched me up when I got home. She took some photos of my ribs and face, though the blood was gone by then; I’d washed up a bit at Arthur’s.”

The Headmaster hums, scribbling something down, “Would she be able to send those photos?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Great, I’d like them by tomorrow if she could. This is a very serious matter, and it will not be tolerated in my school.”

“Thank you, Headmaster.” The man scribbles some more, before looking at Merlin inquisitively. “Are there any other incidents that you would like to report at this time? With Valiant Devlin, or otherwise?” Merlin glances out the window, shifting slightly in his seat with a wince. He nods his head.

“Just before lunch one of Val’s chums, Kanen, stopped me in the loo. He tore my shirt, and kept hitting me in the ribs and stomach, insulting me.” Merlin rubs his stomach, tasting bile in the back of his throat. It gives a painful twinge, jolting Merlin to the edge of his seat. “I don’t feel so good Headmaster,” he states, before lunging for the bin on the floor, and retching into it.

Merlin can hear the Headmaster calling someone from the door, before walking to him with a warm flannel and a bottle of water. “It’s alright Merlin, just breath. I’ve called the school nurse for you.”

“I’m alright,” Merlin wheezes out, torso screaming at his sudden movements. “I’ll be fine in a second.” He whispers, “I think it’s just nerves.”

“Or the pain,” Mr. Barrington argues, “I’ve seen how you’ve been favouring your ribs this whole time. We need to get that checked out.”

Merlin’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, tears stinging his eyes like the stinging bile in his throat. He wipes his mouth with the proffered flannel, wiping the tears from his eyes as well, before chugging half the bottle of water in one go. _I can’t believe I just chundered in front of the Headmaster_ , he thinks with shame.

He hears heals click on wooden floors, and a soft voice speak out, “Oh my, what seems to be the problem Bayard?”

“Mr. Emrys was accosted in the toilets today, and has just vomited into the bin…” Then the Headmaster muses, glancing at the bin, after a pause, “Plus it looks like he has yet to have any lunch.”

“Well, let’s get him up then, shall we?” Merlin slowly tries to push himself up from where he leans against the headmaster’s desk, but can’t seem to manage, feeling too weak and peaky. His muscles clench at the mere thought of rising. “Bayard,” the nurse states bruskly, “Help me, would you?”

The Headmaster rushes to comply, helping to ease Merlin up, off the floor, and to the edge of the seat he had previously occupied. “Now, let’s see the damage shall we; Bayard, shut the door, let’s let the lad keep some decency.” She winks at him, greying hair spread about her head, rebelling from a bun. Merlin tries to smile back, managing a grimace and a wince. The Nurse, Margerie, he learns, is exceptionally sweet, and helps ease him out of his jumper so she can examine him. At the sight of his torso, both of the adults gasp. “Oh dear.”

Nurse Margerie unwraps the bandages from his chest, poking and prodding, humming as she goes along. “These are older, no?” She asks, pointing to the bruises Val had given him, which had just started to fade to a purpley-green colour. He nods, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. “Is it alright if we take photos for documentation Merlin?” His breathing stutters for a moment, but the raven haired boy nods, biting the corner of his lip, fingers nervously pinching each other. Headmaster Barrington snaps a few photos of the bruises, then begins to write another report for Kanen. The nurse quickly spreads an ointment onto his torso, as Merlin hisses when she reaches tender spots, desperately trying not to whimper. She wraps his torso up firmly, securing the bandage with metal clips, slightly patting them with pride when done. “I don’t think anything is broken, but you might want to head to hospital to check, just in case, stomach and rib injuries tend to be tricky.”

“Thank you,” He mumbles, looking at the soup stained jumper in his hands. It smelled faintly of vomit. Now he had nothing else to change into. Nurse Margerie hands him some painkillers and crackers, before going to speak softly with the Headmaster.

“Mr. Emrys, we’re going to call your mother to come and pick you up; you are excused from the rest of your classes for the day.” The Headmaster grabs the office phone, beginning to dial, but Merlin objects.

“Please Headmaster Barrington, I don’t want to bring her from her job. I only have a few more classes, I can manage sir.” Merlin looks sheepish, “Well, I could, if I had something to wear, at least.” Nurse Margerie tuts, strutting from the room with haste. She returns with another school jumper in hand, helping Merlin to pull it on over his head.

“I can excuse one of your friends from their class in order to take you home, we believe it best for you to go home and rest.” Both adults look at him with concern, but he only shakes his head.

“I don’t want to cause any more trouble.” The Headmaster rolls his eyes good naturedly. “More than I have at least. I have a ride for later, may I just stay until then?”

Mr. Barrington nods, “I still have to inform your mother though, as this happened on school property.”

“I understand sir.”

“You are not to go to classes, however, in case of another incident and your current state.”

Merlin’s brows lift, and he can feel Gaius’ influence as one raises above the other. “Where am I to go Headmaster?”

“You’ll be staying with me dear, we have a bed in the nurse's office that you can rest in until classes let out. Is your ride coming from this school?” Merlin nods his head. “Good, we can have them meet you in my office later. What’s the name Merlin?”

“Arthur Pendragon,” he states softly. _All this fuss over me_ , he thinks… _Why?_

“Oh, and one more thing,” The Headmaster states, as Merlin rises with Margerie’s help, “Would you want to press charges on the two that assaulted you? It can easily be done, there's enough evidence for a conviction.”

Merlin's heart skips a beat, feeling as if it's in his throat. _That would just extend this whole thing_ , Merlin thinks, _and then retaliation would be extreme_. He doesn't think he could handle court and the repercussions. “No sir,” he breathes, “I’d rather it be done and over with, if that's alright.”

The man nods his head, “if that's what you wish.”

Merlin hears Mr. Barrington talking to his mother over the phone as he leaves, following slowly behind Nurse Margerie. In the reception area sits Val, eyes flashing dangerously where they sit in shadow on his face. Merlin shivers, trying to stay as far away as possible. _Why couldn’t this whole year have been trouble free_?

Margerie makes him drink ginger ale as he sits on the patient bed, trying to sooth his stomach, before she has him lie down, throwing a woolen blanket over his form. “I’ll wake you when it’s near dismissal time.” He thanks her, not knowing how he’s going to fall asleep with pain flaring down his chest and abdomen. Merlin sends a quick text to his Mum, letting her know he’s alright, before settling back onto the cushions. The steady ticking of the clock lulls him, the only other sound the quiet breathing of Nurse Margerie in the adjoining room. He can see her through the partially open door, sitting at her desk, reading a novel. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, but eventually the pain dulls to a pulsing throb, and he’s able to dose.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think Merlin's alright?” Lance asks, rubbing his face. He's sitting in his free period with a few of the others, flicking through revision material. Arthur is suspiciously lacking from the space, his seat empty at the table they usually occupy in the library.

“I don't know,” Percival shrugs, “he didn't look so good at lunch. Favouring his ribs worse than before.”

“He had a limp as well,” Morgan's states, falling gracefully into her seat. She shakes her head, pursing her red lips. “Someone's attacking him at school. _Bastards_.” She pauses, glancing out the tall window to her right. Rain still drops in buckets, the thunder a steady roll in the distance. “Where is he anyway?”

“He wasn't in class earlier. I'm not sure.” Gwaine replies, brown eyes troubled. “And where's Arthur?”

“I've no idea.” Lance frowns, “He should be here by now.” Morgana furrows her brow, writing out notes as she texts Gwen, looking for some answers. Gwen knows nothing either.

Suddenly Arthur slumps into the chair, jolting the rest of them, who hadn't seen him approach. He's assaulted with questioning eyes from around the table. He rubs the bridge of his nose, eyes as stormy as the sky outside the window. No one speaks, waiting for the blond to say _something_.

“Merlin was attacked in the loos again today,” he intones softly, the rest hold their breath, waiting for more. “He's in the nurses wing right now, sleeping I think.”

“What happened?” Lance asks softly, breaking the silence after a few steady minutes. Arthur shakes his head, shoulders shrugging. “Headmaster Barrington called me in and told me where he was, so I could help him to the car after school. I guess Merlin told him I was his lift home. I'm not sure about anything else.”

“I suppose we'll find out after school then.” The rest nod at Morgana’s words, turning to their work, worry written across their faces, knowing that no work will be completed. Gwaine scribbles angrily in his notebook, back ridged as he fumes.

“Whoever did it better hope I don't find out who they are,” he grits out. Percival places his large hand on the back of the brunette’s neck, a sign of comfort and agreeance.

 

* * *

 

Arthur enters the Nurse’s wing, nodding to Margerie as he does. He'd come to know her quite well because of all his footie injuries. “How are you doing today Arthur?”

He shrugs, smiling slightly at her, “A lot better than Merlin, I'm afraid.” She nods, thin lips pursing.

“He's in the back dear, be gentle.” Arthur nods at her, schooling his features as he walks through her office to where the sick beds are. Merlin is lying in the one to the far right, placed under a window, rain pattering against the panes. His raven hair is sticking out from the woolen blanket over his lithe figure, stark against the pristine white of the walls and pillow. Arthur walks softly to him, kneeling by his face when he reaches the bed. He places his hand softly on Merlin's shoulder, warm through the blanket, shaking him gently.

Merlin doesn't stir. “Merlin,” he speaks softly, not wanting to startle the boy. Arthur's hand travels to Merlin's neck, which is startlingly warm against his hand. His thumb rubs against the pale skin, brows furrowed. _Why would someone hurt Merlin?_ The boy in question shifts in his sleep, and Arthur yanks his hand away as if he'd been burned, before the brunette gasps, eyes flying open with a groan.

“Arthur,” he asks throatily, hands moving to his ribs with a groan. “What's goin’ on?”

“I came to take you home,” Arthur supplies, gently trying to get Merlin to sit up, “easy, easy” he whispers. The boy grunts, trying not to let whimpers escape his lips. Finally Arthur has him standing, arm thrown over his shoulder so he can take Merlin's weight. “Ready?” Merlin nods, hissing as they start walking. “I'll get you home, then see what your mum says about going to hospital.”

“She's...she's not home until later, has...a late shift today.” Merlin's words are interspersed with hitching breaths.

“That's alright. I'll wait with you.”

Merlin looks at Arthur, eyes warm, a slight smile gracing his lips, “you really don't have to.” “Merlin,” Arthur chides playfully, “what are mates for?” A toothy grin spreads on Merlin's face, and he ducks his head, spots of colour high on his cheeks.

They finally make their slow progress to the entrance of the Academy, Arthur pulling the door for his friend. “You know,” he muses, letting Merlin step through, “this is the second time I've helped you in a week.” Arthur assists Merlin, who winces with each step, down the stairs, rain still pounding onto the awning, an incessant pat-patting. Merlin let's out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at Arthur's antics. He can see the rest of his chums at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for him with worry in their eyes. “Oh yes,” he muses, finally at the bottom, “you're a real knight in shining arm -”

His words are cut off by a fist to the face, snapping his head to the side, as his body knocks roughly into Arthur, who grips him tightly to steady him. Merlin squeezes his eyes at the pain, feeling a hand smoothing his hair and feeling, more than hearing, a comforting, calming hum, coming from Arthur. He can hear a scuffle going on, shouts and grunts reaching his ears.

“You got me expelled you bloody fucking cunt,” Val’s voice yells, and Merlin pulls his eyes open slowly to see what the commotion is. Val is being restrained by Percival, the short haired boy roughly holding back the thrashing attacker, while Gwaine, in a swirl of motion, forcefully drops Val to his knees. In a move that surprises everyone, Lance punches Val square on the jaw, pulling a gasp from the group. Val reels, blinking quickly, rage evident on his face.

Leon is too busy fighting off Kanen to be involved with Val, his strawberry curls bouncing as he twists around the boy and pulls him into a headlock. “You cocky little shite, coming in ‘ere acting like you know everything, pissing everybody off with your lip. And now look what you've done, you've gone and tattled like a weak little nancy-boy, and gotten me expelled. This isn't over Emrys. You've got fuckin’ hell to pay! Don't think these lads will stop me next time, they won't. Just wait until my father hears of this.”

Merlin is stood gaping at the scene, terrible images of future torment flashing through his mind. _What have I done_ , he thinks, wincing. Arthur's hand is resting on his shoulder blade, thumb slowly smoothing the fabric of his jumper. “That's quite enough Valiant,” Arthur states coldly, calculating smirk on his face. “Let's not bring fathers into this, we all know who'd win that spat.”

“What Captain,” Val leers, “still keeping up the rouse that you like that manky bloody knobhead, so that your little chums don't get upset?” Arthur's grip tightens on his shoulder blade; Merlin can't help but looking back at the blond behind him. “Oh, don't pretend you haven't said worse Pendragon. I've heard you in the locker room spouting insults that would make your poor dead mother cry.” Merlin hears a gasp next to him, feels the hand slip down his back, warm contact gone. For a split second the group is in stunned silence, enough time for Val to slip through Percival's arms, and lunge for Merlin, grasping his wrist in a crushing grip, quick as lightning.

Faintly he hears Arthur yell his name from behind him, the others following suit. Val's knee connects with his ribs with a rage filled crack, knocking the air from Merlin's lungs as he falls to his knees, before he's shielded from further abuse by Arthur lunging past him, body protectively in front of him. With incredible force Arthur swings his fist at Val's face, knocking the boy onto his back, before landing another punch on the unsuspecting bully. “Don't you ever touch him again,” Arthur seethes, “And _never_ speak of my mother, you bastard.”

Arthur turns around, scowl on his face as he gently pulls Merlin's arm over his shoulders, helping him stand, then slowly guiding him away and to the car. The rest of their group follows behind them, releasing Kanen to attend Val, who lies holding his face in his hands. “Arsehole,” Morgana spits over her shoulder, taking Leon’s bruise-knuckled hand gently in hers as they walk away.

Anger is radiating from Arthur's body as he helps Merlin to the car, muscles rigid. “It's not a rouse,” Arthur says under his breath, “I'm not just trying to fuck with you, Merlin. I really am trying to be your friend.”

Merlin's heart swells at the sound of Arthur's voice, anger and dejection mixed together. “Arthur, hush,” he intones softly, breathing radiating pain down his side, “I know. It's alright, Val's an arse.” Arthur pouts slightly at the words, slowly nodding his head. Behind them their friends chatter softly between each other, anger palpable from their cluster, none knowing what to say to Merlin. “Are you good? What he said about your mother …” Merlin cuts off, unable to finish his sentence. _Poor Arthur_. “I'm sorry.”

Finally they reach the car, all gathering around it. Arthur let's Merlin lean against him, backs to the car. “Why?” Arthur questions, “it's not your fault, can't blame yourself.” Merlin grabs his ribs, screaming pain making him whimper. He gasps in a breath, trying to hide his face in Arthur's shoulder. “Let me check your ribs Merlin,” Arthur says softly, hand smoothing against his back, “I heard a crack when he kicked you, he might have broken something.” The blond props him up against the car, hands moving to the bottom of Merlin's jumper.

The brunette’s hands fly to Arthur's, grabbing them in a steady grip. Arthur lays questioning eyes on Merlin, who shakes his head softly, blue eyes incredibly wide. Merlin throws a glance behind Arthur, taking in the angry, concerned faces of his friends. Arthur follows his eyes, noticing everyone looking at them, and Merlin's unease, “Alright,” he commands, “let's get in the cars and head out, you lot are coming with us right?” To a chorus of ‘yes,’ Arthur nods, watching as the group starts to split into the cars next to his. “Just follow me,” he calls out, finally turning back to Merlin, who still holds his hands in a death grip, ivory against golden brown.

“Hey,” he speaks softly, “it's alright, just me now.” Merlin nods, finally letting Arthur's hands go gently.

“I...I didn't want,” Merlin stutters, stopping when Arthur hushes him. Arthur rubs a thumb over Merlin's knuckles, trying to give the pained boy some comfort.

“I know Merlin, it's alright.” Merlin nods, tears in his eyes at the pain. “Can I take a look?”

Merlin nods, “but they're wrapped.”

“I'll just take a peek under the bindings alright?” Arthur asks softly, as one would a startled horse, “which side did Val get?”

“Left,” Merlin pants out, squeezing his eyes as a stabbing pain jostles him.

Arthur mumbles under his breath, slowly lifting the jumper as Merlin leans back against the door of the sports car. A shiver runs over his body as his torso is exposed to the nippy autumn air, a roll of thunder in the distance. “ _Fucking Christ!_ ” Arthur all but yells, making Merlin wince. “Holy fucking hell,” Arthur continues, eyes wide with horror at the black and blue in front of his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he curses again, voice wet. He gently pokes and prods, feeling along the bone, checking under the bindings, “ _Merlin_ ,” he whispers without thought, failing to keep the concern out of his voice.

When Arthur finally catches his eyes, Merlin notes a watery sheen in them, equally pained expressions on both lads faces. Gently, Arthur lifts a hand to Merlin's face, fingertips tracing the new mottled bruise on Merlin's jaw. Time stops as the boys stare at each other, Merlin's breath stuttering in his chest, whether from the pain or Arthur's stare, he's not sure. “Alright,” Arthur states, composing himself, as he pulls his hand away from the warmth of Merlin's face, “We’re going to hospital.” After pulling the jumper back down Merlin's torso, Arthur opens the door to the auto. “In you get,” he mumbles softly, assisting Merlin, with many grunts and groans, into the seat and safety belt.

Arthur runs to the drivers side, throwing himself in the car, and the car into drive in seconds flat. He pulls from the drive, making sure Gwen and Leon’s cars are right behind, before racing to hospital just this shy of speeding. Merlin's mind flashes back to the day, to Kanen, to Val, to his threat. _What have I done_ , he thinks, _What now? What's going to happen, what's worse than this?_

He doesn't realise his breathing is erratic until he hears Arthur calling his name, voice loud and worried. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, pounding against his ribs as cries of pain rip from his lips with each beat and breath. He feels wetness on his cheeks, but can't stop himself from crying, or his heart from racing, or _anything. I can't control anything_ , he deliberates. Arthur's eyes are wide with panic as he looks upon the hyperventilating boy next to him, trying his hardest to get Merlin to calm down. When hushing him with a hand to his shoulder doesn't help, Arthur pulls the car to the shoulder of the road, throwing it into park so he can focus on Merlin. He can’t imagine the pain Merlin is going through.

“Merlin,” he breathes softly, he takes the boy’s hands in his, thumbs rubbing over pale knuckles. “Merlin, breathe, come on, relax... _relax_.” Arthur sees the other cars stop behind his, from the corner of his eye, but pays it no mind as he continues his ministrations with Merlin. The boy in question is staring straight ahead, eyes wide as tears run down his cheeks, breaths hitching as he whimpers. “Merlin, look at me,” Arthur whispers, cupping Merlin's face gently and turning it so their eyes lock. “Hey, hey...shh, it'll be alright.”

Merlin doesn't show any signs of calming, so without thought Arthur pulls him into a gentle, yet firm hug, pulling the thinner boy flush against his chest. He can feel the stuttering breaths, and tears on his shirt as he guides Merlin's face to his neck. “Merlin,” he breaths softly, “breathe with me. Do you feel my breath?” Arthur feels Merlin nod against his neck, “Good, good, now match my breathing; can you do that?”

“Can try,” he feels, more than hears, Merlin's soft voice choke out, breath moist on his neck.

“Good,” he soothes, taking a deep breath in and holding it. “Follow my lead,” he breathes out slowly. Arthur can feel Merlin trying to copy him as he slowly rubs circles into the other boy’s back. “In,” he says softly, slowly sucking in a breath, “and out,” he breathes. “You're doing great Merlin, really great. Just keep breathing with me, relax love.” Arthur continues trying to soothe Merlin, slowly breathing with him, ignoring the texts he can feel vibrating his mobile, no doubt from their worried mates.

The rain picks up as Arthur tries to distract Merlin, telling him the story of how he and Leon used to play knights as children, and how Leon always wanted Morgana to be the princess so he could save her. “More often than not,” Arthur reminiscences, “Morgana would play the Queen and tell all of us what to do. No matter what though,” he adds, “Leon was always _her knight_.” Arthur can feel Merlin's breath start to slow, so he continues his story. “That's when Gwaine started calling me princess actually...since all the adults always said I was a pretty boy. He figured I was the next closest to a princess, since Morgana insisted on being Queen.”

Arthur feels Merlin smile into his neck, “I'm sure you were very pretty Arthur… the prettiest little princess.” Merlin chuckles, vibrations running to Arthur's chest.

“Shut it,” he replies, no heat in his words, smiling. “I was a brave knight of the realm, no one can say otherwise.”

“A very brave princess-knight, for sure,” Merlin mumbles softly. Arthur laughs as Merlin smiles into his neck, hand still rubbing soothing circles into the other boy’s back.

“Yeah, I didn't really mind. And in the end, Morgana just told all of us what to do anyway.”

A few moments lapse by in relative silence, the rain softly pelting the windows as their breathing fills the car. “How are you feeling,” Arthur whispers into Merlin's hair. The brunette’s breathing had calmed to a more normal rhythm, but he still felt tense against him, face hidden.

“Nauseous,” Merlin mumbles, “and kind of like I'm choking, but better. Need a few minutes though.” Arthur runs a hand down the back of Merlin's head, rubbing a thumb down his neck.

“Take your time,” Arthur soothes, “Blimey, you're heart is still going a mile a minute.”

Merlin hums, “can you please just keep talking to me?”

Arthur's heart nearly breaks at the small voice coming from Merlin, but he keeps talking. He talks to fill the silence. He talks to distract Merlin. He talks and talks and talks. He doesn't even know what he talks about, but he keeps going for Merlin. His voice trails off when he feels Merlin's arm snake around his waist, firmly hugging him back. “Thank you,” Merlin whispers against his neck; Arthur feels his cheeks pinken at the contact, but hugs the boy back, trying to comfort him as much as possible. Merlin lifts his head away, small smile on his face, tear tracks on his razor sharp cheekbones.

Arthur finds his thumb wiping the tears away before he has time to think, and is surprised to note the faint blush that rises high on Merlin's cheeks. It looks wrong, completely inappropriate compared to the new bruise blooming on Merlin's jaw.

Arthur coughs, pulling his hand back to rub at the back of his neck. “Of course, of course, now let's get you to hospital.”

Merlin nods, letting out a little cry as he tries to sit back against the seat. His hand flies to Arthur's, gripping tight as he lets out a steadying breath through his nose. “Good idea,” he responds quietly, gritting his teeth. Merlin buckles in slowly as Arthur starts the car. Before Arthur can pull back into traffic, Merlin reaches over and grips his hand once more, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Arthur pauses at the contact for a moment, looking at their joined hands, before gripping Merlin's hand in his, and driving away, one hand on the steering wheel as rain splatters against the windshield.


End file.
